Resolution
by chrmisha
Summary: SEQUEL to REDEMPTION. Hermione Granger struggles with her past and finds comfort in the arms of Severus Snape. I do not own Harry Potter or make any money from these stories.
1. Chapter 1

Resolution  
By Chrmisha  
  
Summary: SEQUEL to REDEMPTION, Hermione Granger struggles with her past and finds comfort in the arms of Severus Snape.  
  
A/N: This fic contains depictions of sexual and physical abuse. Although it is hard to read at times, it is a compassionate fic about the struggles people face in recovering from such events. And, it has a happy ending. Please be forewarned though.  
  
Resolution : Chapter 1 of 13  
  
Severus Snape sipped his brandy, contemplating his lot in life as he was prone to do when he consumed alcohol. At no other time did he allow himself to indulge in such self-serving, idiotic behavior. Yet he had taken to drinking when he couldn't get his mind off of her. Hermione Granger, that slip of a woman who had invaded his mind and insidiously yet unknowingly implanted herself into his life.  
  
Hermione had left the day after her reunion with Potter and the Weasleys, just as Severus had known she would. He sat in his study, alone for the first time since she had broken through the wards on his private potions storeroom a little over a month ago. He had always treasured his privacy; he'd been loath to be interrupted in his chambers, the one place that no one had access to, where no one dared to impose on his space. Shaking his head, he realized that that truth no longer held. For the first time in his life, alone suddenly became equivalent to lonely.  
  
By now she would be settling in at the Burrow and moving on with her life while his remained stagnant. He could no longer return to the normal routine of his daily life prior to one month ago. He could no more remove her from his mind than he could cut off his own arm. Draining the glass of brandy, he paced his study. Her scent was everywhere: his couch, his chair, his bed. Most of all, his bed, where she had slept for the last month. Walking aimlessly, his feet led him to his bedchamber, where he picked up the pillow and inhaled. Cursing, he threw the pillow down, berating himself for his folly. She was half his age and she had the rest of her life to live; he had no business pining after a young woman with a bright future ahead of her. Last, but not least, he reminded himself, not only did she not reciprocate his feelings, she didn't even know that his feelings for her existed. And that was how it must remain. He had no intention of adding more pain and confusion to her life.  
  
The first week back at the Burrow had been a whirlwind of activity for Hermione. Between Harry and the Weasleys doting on her excessively, she also had to deal with the legal issues of the Muggle world regarding her family's estate which had been, luckily for her, still tied up in probate since their deaths.  
  
The next week, life at the Burrow was showing signs of returning to normal. After breakfast, Harry and Ron, who had been staying at the Burrow since Hermione had arrived, were returning to the flat they shared in London. Harry was in training to be an auror, though Hermione wondered just how much Harry was learning and how much he was teaching. Ron was working with the World Quidditch Association to coordinate the next Quidditch World Cup. They both reminded her that the Burrow was connected to their London flat via the Floo Network and that she was welcome there anytime.  
  
As they finished their eggs and toast, Hermione watched with a pang of sadness as Arthur kissed Molly good-bye and headed off to his job at the Ministry. She doubted she would ever have the family she once dreamed of, a family consisting of a loving husband and children. She shook off the feeling of self-pity and busied herself with helping Ginny clean up the kitchen.  
  
"Hermione, dear, I have something for you," Molly said sweetly as she handed Hermione a package.  
  
Hermione accepted the wrapped parcel with curiosity.  
  
"Go on, open it."  
  
Tearing away the paper, she held what appeared to be a book, but there was no title and no author.  
  
Molly smiled at Hermione's questioning look. "It's a diary of sorts, my dear. It's enchanted to only open to its rightful owner."  
  
"How does it know who the rightful owner is?" Hermione asked, fingering the gold edges of the finely crafted paper.  
  
"Well, that would be the first person to write in it. Once you record your thoughts on its pages, it will be permanently bonded to you. No one else will be able to open it."  
  
Hermione opened the book and set it down on the table. On the first page, she wrote, "Hermione Granger's Journal." She snapped the book shut and handed it to Ginny.  
  
Ginny accepted the enchanted book with a bit of trepidation. When she tried to open it, the book lurched from her hands screeching and hit the floor with a loud thud.  
  
Hermione picked up the book and laughed with approval. "Thank you, Molly. This is a wonderful gift."  
  
Hermione stared at the blank pages of the journal that evening, not sure what to write. She had been so busy trying to rescind her death and get her life back in order that she had mostly avoided dealing with the trauma she'd been through. And if she had anything to say about it, that's the way it would remain. As long as she could keep herself busy, she didn't have to think about what had happened to her. She snapped the journal shut, refusing to deal with the demons that lurked just beneath the surface. She was tired, she reasoned; they could wait.  
  
Exhausted, she lay back in the bed that had once belonged to Charlie Weasley. She studied the ferocious looking dragons that rampaged animatedly across the ceiling, remnants of Charlie's lifelong desire to work with the dangerous beasts. Tomorrow, she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep, tomorrow, she would redecorate his room. She'd toss out the old and bring in the new and forget the old ever existed; just like her life, she thought wryly. If only it were that simple.  
  
She awoke to the sounds of screaming.  
  
"Hermione, Hermione! Wake up!"  
  
"Ginny," Hermione gasped, her throat sore, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "Ginny, he was here, Lucius was here, he was..."  
  
"Hermione, it was just a dream. You're at the Burrow. Lucius is dead, remember?"  
  
"Oh, gods," she said, collapsing back on the bed, her heart still racing, the sounds of her own screams echoing in her ears. "It seemed so real."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, willing away the horrid memories of what Lucius had done to her. Instinctively, she rubbed the thin scar that began at the hollow of her neck and snaked down beneath the neckline of her nightgown. Shaking her head, she tried to push away the thoughts of Lucius raping and torturing her. Lucius Malfoy is dead, she reminded herself, he can never hurt me again. Taking a deep breath, Hermione said goodnight to Ginny and fell back into a restless sleep.  
  
Hermione awoke early the next morning both anticipating and dreading her trip with Ginny to Diagon Alley. In the fall, Hermione would be returning to Gladwick University; the place she had attended prior to her abduction. She planned to buy her books early and get a head start on her studies, seeing as she had missed the entire spring semester. Plus, she thought, schoolwork had always been an excellent distraction for her. She could bury herself in her books instead of dwelling on the past.  
  
As she lay on her bed, books spread out around her, she couldn't seem to concentrate. If her mind wasn't wandering to the Malfoys, it was wandering to her Potions professor, the man who had been the bane of her existence while she was a student at Hogwarts. She had dreaded her classes with him, not because of the subject matter, but because the man was intimidating, intense, and generally cruel. She would never have imagined him capable of the kindness he had shown her after he had found her in his potions storeroom that fateful night six weeks ago. And now? Now she actually missed him.  
  
His company was not what one would call delightful; he was reserved, he spoke little, and when he did, it was with a great economy of words. He seemed set in his ways and adverse to change. His mood tended to be more negative than positive, more pessimistic than optimistic. And yet, when she was in his presence, she felt safe. She hadn't felt safe since the war began, not even after it ended. Yet for those four weeks she had hidden away in Severus Snape's quarters, with Lucius Malfoy trying to find her, she had felt safe and secure and protected and loved. Loved? She shook her head at the thought. Where had that come from? He had been kind, yes. But loved? Perhaps like a sister.  
  
Sighing, she pulled out the journal Molly had given her and began to write, thankful that no one would ever be able to read her disjointed thoughts and feelings.  
  
ENTRY 1: I never thought I'd say this, but I miss you, Severus. Or maybe I miss what our time together represented. When I was with you, I was neither dead nor alive. I was living in a sort of limbo. There was no future to plan for, no responsibilities, no one to answer to, no expectations, nothing. Just making it from one day to the next. And now? Now I cringe at the thought of facing the world. When I was imprisoned at the Malfoy mansion, I wished for my freedom. Now that I have it, I find it overwhelming. Everyone knows. I haven't had the courage to venture out into the real world yet. When I went to Diagon Alley to pick up my school books, I kept to the shadows, trying to hide from anyone who might recognize me. University is only a little over a month away, and I'm terrified of it. I thought it would make things easier if everyone knew what happened to me; then no one would ask questions. Now I'm not so sure. When I was younger, everything had an easy answer. Now, there are no easy answers. Everyone has tried to be supportive of me here at the Burrow, but no one really understands what it was like being held prisoner at the Malfoy mansion. No one knows what it's like to live in constant torment, sometimes wishing for the very death you fear, just to escape the pain. No one knows what it's like to spend your days knowing what horrible things will happen to you that evening and being powerless to change your fate. Waiting all day for it to happen, then waiting for it to be over with, then waiting for it to start all over again...  
  
Hermione snapped the journal shut and threw it across the room. Her skin crawled at the memories of what Lucius had done to her. She fled the room, trying to escape the pain ravaging her mind. Severus would understand, she thought idly. He's the only one who understands. Although he rarely made reference to it, Hermione knew that Severus had been tortured by the Dark Lord and that he too must have experienced many of the things that she was going through. As she sat alone in the garden, willing her breath to steady, she imagined Severus there with her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her to his chest as the tears slipped down her cheeks. He would have done that, had he been here. She longed to go to him now, to be comforted by him, to be loved by him. But he had his own life to live; he didn't need some stupid, emotional girl tying up his time. Then again, maybe he could give her a potion to ease the pain, the memories. She suddenly understood why Muggles turned to drugs. If one had been available to her now, she probably would have taken it. She had never considered herself susceptible to drug addiction, but the reality seemed to loom large at the moment. Wrapping her arms around herself, she realized she would do just about anything to stop the pain looming over her.  
  
It was almost midnight when she headed back to bed, afraid to sleep, afraid to dream. She had started putting silencing charms on her room at night which turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. Her screams didn't wake the household up anymore, but no one came to wake her from the nightmares either.  
  
As the days passed and the nightmares intensified, she slept less and less. Soon the nightmares weren't just nightmares anymore, they were daymares as well. The first one happened when she was in the bathroom, staring into the mirror over the sink. She had put on one of her favorite Muggle blouses, only to realize that the scar that began at the hollow of her neck stood out prominently. She rubbed her scar, and, like a Portkey, she was there.  
  
Lucius hovered over her naked body, the sharp edge of the dagger glistening above her. He had threatened her before with the dagger, but this time, something was different. Draco had refused. She wasn't sure what it was that Draco had refused to do to her, but whatever it was, it had angered Lucius greatly. She pulled against the invisible bonds that held her wrists and ankles in place. Lucius merely laughed at her struggles. She tried to hide her fear, knowing that her weaknesses only seemed to spur Lucius on. Sneering at her, he gave her a choice: Would she rather he penetrate her with himself or the knife? She lurched upward, terrified at the prospect. She looked to Draco; his eyes were as wide as saucers. And then, she watched in horror as Draco turned his face away; he couldn't watch. She was alone. Lucius laughed again. "Can't decide? Well, then, I guess I'll have to decide for you." She would have screamed if she hadn't been gagged. She thrashed wildly underneath him, trying to get away from the edge of the blade. It was useless, but in her fear, rational thought had fled her. He grabbed her hair, forcing her head upwards. "Watch," he demanded. Shaking, she was forced to see the blood rise to the surface as Lucius touched the blade to the hollow of her neck and dragged it slowly downward, relishing each inch of her anguish. Tears sprang to her eyes. Tears of pain, tears of terror. She didn't dare look at him. She knew he was enjoying this. The blade sliced across her sternum, between her breasts, down her abdomen. Her body shook involuntarily. Over her bellybutton. Lower still. He reached the curly brown hair at her apex, and still he didn't stop. He paused momentarily at her pubic bone, a bright red line of blood seeping from the long flesh wound. He lifted the knife and held it up for her to see before poising it between her legs. With a flick of his wand, he ungagged her. "Which would you prefer, Miss Granger, me? Or the knife?" Staring at the blood-stained blade, she whispered, "You." "Louder, Miss Granger! Ask for what you want. Beg me." "YOU!" She screamed in anguish. "Please, I want you, only you." Without warning, he thrust into her hard, slamming her into the mattress.  
  
Hermione gasped as the mirror came back into focus. Closing her eyes, tears streaming down her face, she crumbled to the floor, her head in her hands. She had no idea how much time had passed, but then Ginny was there, asking her what was wrong. She just shook her head, leaning against Ginny as she sobbed. Ginny was speaking to her, but Hermione couldn't hear her. And then Ginny left, and Molly and Ginny came, and the two of them carried Hermione to her bed. Molly gave her something to drink and suddenly, she was very tired.  
  
She awoke to the sound of voices around her, male voices. Harry's voice, she realized, and Ron's. And that softer female voice, Ginny's voice. Slowly opening her eyes, they were all gathered around her on the double bed, whispering. When they noticed she was awake, they came alive. Harry hugged her first, then Ron, then Ginny. They asked her if she was okay. She just stared at them blankly. How could she tell them what had happened to her? She blinked, not knowing what to say or do. Realizing what had happened and that her scar must be showing, she quickly buttoned the blouse she was wearing to its full extent.  
  
"I think you've been studying too much," Ron finally said. "You need to take a break, get out more."  
  
Hermione sighed in relief at the out Ron had given her. She nodded. "Yes, I'm just overstressed and overtired. I've been working very hard to catch up on the classes I've missed." She told the lie convincingly, as if lying came second nature to her. In truth, she had barely touched her textbooks. She had tried several times, but couldn't concentrate on them.  
  
Everyone seemed to relax a bit at her confession, and she wondered if they really believed her or if they were just as uncomfortable discussing what had happened to her as she was. She listened halfheartedly as Harry talked about his Auror training and Ron about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. She knew they were trying to distract her, give her something else to focus on. If it were only that easy to forget, she thought to herself.  
  
Harry and Ron had started taking turns staying at the Burrow again. Although this struck Hermione as somewhat odd, she never questioned them. She had too much on her mind. She didn't leave the house much for fear of being recognized in public, so she and Ginny and Ron or Harry, depending on who was staying there, would spend the evenings playing Exploding Snap, or Wizard's Chess, or one of the Muggle card games Hermione had taught them.  
  
When everyone else had retired for the evening, she would stay up late writing in her journal. It had become her only outlet. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about what had happened to her, even though she knew that Harry, Ron, Ginny, Molly, and even Arthur were more than willing to listen and help her in any way that they could. But the pain was too great to share; she was too ashamed of what had happened to tell anyone. And she was too proud to admit she was losing her sanity trying to deal with it all herself.  
  
ENTRY 17: I'm safe now, I keep telling myself that. And I don't fear him coming for me anymore. I know he's dead. But in the quieter moments, when I let my guard down, I'm back there, at his mercy, living in fear again. And the dreams are getting worse, more intense, more frequent. I'm afraid to fall asleep at night. I watch Charlie's dragons overhead and I think that having nightmares about dragons would be much better than the nightmares of Lucius coming for me, finding me, abducting me all over again. In my dreams, he's not dead, he's flesh and blood and bones and he'll never stop hunting me, he won't stop until he destroys me. 


	2. Chapter 2

Resolution : Chapter 2 of 13  
  
It was near morning when her screams woke her once again. Her chest was pounding, her face wet, her hands shaking. Swallowing against the fear that hadn't yet subsided, she reached for her journal. Maybe if I write it down it will go away.  
  
ENTRY 18: Lucius has found me and I'm back at the Malfoy mansion. Lucius is livid that I escaped and he's making me pay for it. He has the knife again and he's cutting me. Draco is screaming for him to stop, but now Lucius knows that Draco is a traitor too. He forces Draco to watch as he marks my skin, drawing blood, smearing it everywhere. The pain is excruciating. The more I scream out, the deeper he cuts. But soon, even that isn't enough. Lucius decides he wants more of me. He tells me I'm not wet enough for him, not big enough for him. At that, Draco thrashes wildly at the restraints holding him. I've long since stopped fighting the invisible bonds that restrain me; there's no use. Still, as Lucius slowly drags the knife up my inner thigh, a trail of blood following in its wake, I can't help but struggle as the fear mounts. And then the knife is there, and I scream out in pain as I feel it plunging deep inside of me, once, twice, three times. The world begins to fade to black as pain overwhelms my senses, but Lucius grabs my face, his vicious eyes locking with mine, forcing me to remain conscious as he pulls the knife out and thrusts himself inside of me. I look to Draco then, the pain racking my body etched clearly on his face. "Please kill me, Draco, please..." I beg. "Please."  
  
Hermione snapped the journal shut, unable to write anymore. This nightmare was the one she had the most. She could see it as clearly during the day as she did at night. She began to wonder if it had really happened or not. The less she slept, the less she was able to distinguish between the reality she lived in and the nightmares that haunted her.  
  
She had started using charms to cover the dark circles under her eyes and putting thumbtacks in her shoes to keep herself awake at meal times when the family kept a close eye on her. When she had no other obligations, like Ron or Harry or Ginny, she would lock herself in her room under the guise of studying. The only book she could manage to concentrate on was a book called Magical Plants and Potion Making by Herbert Seymour. She devoured everything in that book, searching endlessly for some magic combination of herbs that would erase her memory, stop the nightmares, drown out the pain. She had yet to come up with a suitable solution.  
  
She had thought about asking Severus for something, but then she would have to admit to him that she had been living a lie, telling everyone she was just fine when she obviously was not. She could no more admit to him or anyone else that she was struggling than she could admit it to herself.  
  
Both Harry and Ron were there that Friday evening, and they insisted on taking Hermione to a Muggle movie.  
  
"No one will know you there, Hermione," Harry reminded her.  
  
"Yeah, and it will be loads of fun! We'll go see a comedy."  
  
Reluctantly, she agreed, knowing she didn't have much choice. It was an American movie, and it was supposed to be funny. It was a comedy about a high school boy's fantasies for his older, more experienced school teacher. Harry and Ron thought it was hilarious, but Hermione just cringed at all the sexual jokes, knowing she would never think of sex the same way again. Never would it be carefree and full of fantasies as in this movie; never would it be romantic or enjoyable or intimate.  
  
When they arrived back at the Burrow, she collapsed on her bed in utter exhaustion. She was asleep before she even had a chance to bid the dragons good night.  
  
When she awoke, there was darkness everywhere. She was on the floor: a cold, hard floor. She tried to move, but something was holding her down. She caught a familiar scent but she was too tired to place it. As she fought to stay awake long enough to figure out what was going on, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. There was someone else in the room. She could feel his presence, his tall figure looming over her.  
  
"Welcome back, Miss Granger," his cold voice drawled. "Did you miss me?"  
  
Her heart slammed into her throat. The scent was that of the Malfoy mansion. Lucius had found her. She thrashed against her bindings but it was no use.  
  
"Where's Draco?"  
  
"Draco can't save you now, Miss Granger. The pathetic boy couldn't even save himself. I'm afraid I had to kill him. He was just too much trouble."  
  
As the clouds moved across the sky, moonlight filtered in through the only window in the room. In the light and the shadows she could see Lucius standing over her with something in his hand. At first she thought it was his wand, but when the light glinted from its shiny surface, she knew what it was: the dagger.  
  
Trembling in fear, she averted her gaze, only to have it fall upon the lifeless form of Draco lying in the corner.  
  
"You didn't answer my question, Miss Granger," Lucius said, stepping forward. "Did you miss me?"  
  
Her throat was dry, no words came. She watched in horror as he approached her, wielding the knife in front of him, taunting her.  
  
"You've been a very bad girl, Miss Granger, running away from me like that. You need to be punished."  
  
She turned her head away, tears springing to her eyes.  
  
She screamed as the dagger slashed across her abdomen. He forced her to look at the wound.  
  
"It's only a flesh wound, Miss Granger. It won't kill you." And then he brought the dagger back down, making another deep cut across her tender skin.  
  
She thrashed wildly against the dagger that continued to slash across her stomach, her legs, her arms. Lucius was speaking to her, but his words were drowned out by her screams.  
  
Suddenly, she was gagging on something. Blood, she thought. He must have slit her throat. Instinctively, she put her hands to her neck. They weren't bound anymore. She gasped for air and coughed.  
  
Strong arms encircled her from behind, holding her still. She tried to struggle against them, but they were too strong. In the distance she could hear a voice, a man's voice. It was calling her name, her first name. It was soothing and soft and gentle. She stopped struggling, trying to hear the words.  
  
"Hermione, it's okay, you're okay. You're safe now. I won't let him hurt you. I promise."  
  
The strong arms loosened their grip as she relaxed into him. He was rocking her gently, she noted, as she leaned her head back against his firm chest, calmed by the sound of his beating heart.  
  
Was this a dream or was this real? She wasn't sure. It felt familiar though, like she had been here before. She tried to remember where "here" was, but then she was floating away, her thoughts flitting from her mind.  
  
Harry stood silently behind the slightly cracked door, listening in awe to the drawl of the most intimidating professor at Hogwarts. He had never heard Severus Snape speak so gently or so kindly in all his life. He didn't think the man was capable of it. He had known Hermione had spent the first month after her ordeal with Snape, hidden away in his chambers for her own protection, but Harry had never dreamed that Snape, evil Potions Master extraordinaire, had been anything but civil to her. He listened in stunned disbelief at the caring, concerned tone in his voice as well as his gentle, calming words. Snape was using her first name as well. Maybe the man accidentally ingested some of the potions he had brought for Hermione.  
  
Harry had been against summoning the Potions Professor at first, but no one could seem to wake Hermione from her nightmare and if one of Snape's potions could help her, he was all for it. Harry couldn't stand to watch Hermione suffer.  
  
It had been Arthur that had gone to fetch Snape at the castle in the middle of the night. Snape would surely be livid at being interrupted in the middle of the night to help a Muggleborn Gryffindor know-it-all who was suffering from nightmares. And Snape had not dissuaded Harry from his views. Snape arrived in a flurry, as seemingly disgruntled and foul- tempered as ever. He had taken one look at Hermione, cowering on the floor screaming, and ordered everyone out, even mothering Molly, who was quite upset by his dismissal of her. But he had come bearing potions, potions that could help Hermione, so no one dared cross him.  
  
Harry had not been dissuaded in his views until this very moment, when he had crept up the stairs to check on the infamous Potions Professor who had given them all such grief while they were students at Hogwarts. Now Harry stood still, afraid to breath for fear that Snape might discover his presence. This man was not the Potions Master they all knew and hated. This man was someone else entirely.  
  
Hermione awoke the next morning feeling well rested for the first time since she had arrived at the Burrow. She stretched in the early morning sunlight, recalling that she'd actually had a good dream the night before. She couldn't quite recall all of the details, but she remembered feeling safe and protected and loved. She smiled before a frown quickly crossed her face. It wasn't real. He wasn't real, whoever he was. And he never would be. No one would ever love her, not after what had happened to her.  
  
Just then, there was a soft knock at the door.  
  
"Come in," she called.  
  
"Harry? What are you doing here? I thought you went back to your flat last night." Looking at him closer, she said, "And you look awfully tired."  
  
He just smiled and sat beside her on the bed. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Quite well, actually. I had a good dream last night, the first time in a long time."  
  
Harry smiled. "Anything to do with a man wrapping you up in his arms and making you feel safe?"  
  
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "How did you know?"  
  
"It wasn't a dream, Hermione, Professor Snape was here last night."  
  
Hermione brought her hand to her chest, her heart beating faster. "Here? Why?"  
  
"You were having nightmares and we couldn't wake you. He gave you a potion to help you sleep."  
  
"Oh," was all she said, as everything began to click into place. She had been so tired that she fell asleep without casting the silencing charms on her room.  
  
"He's not like what I thought. He was very different with you. He didn't know I was watching."  
  
Hermione laughed. "Who would have guessed that Professor Snape had a heart?"  
  
At that, they both laughed. Who indeed.  
  
Severus had left several potions behind: dreamless sleep potions, anxiety relieving tonics, and various other bottles that Molly had catalogued and carefully put away. Hermione sent Severus a quick owl to thank him for helping her. The letter was short and to the point. She left out the parts about how she missed him, how she longed to be in his arms where she felt safe, how he was the only one who seemed to be able to take away her pain. But she didn't say any of those things. She was nothing to him, really. Just someone he'd had to keep safe for a short period of time. Surely by now he had moved on with his life. Still, he had come to the Burrow in the middle of the night to ease her pain, and for that, she would be forever grateful.  
  
With the aid of the dreamless sleep potion that Severus had left, as well as some of the calming and anxiety relieving tonics, Hermione was able to enjoy the rest of her summer relatively nightmare free. The occasional flashback would still haunt her, but as time went by, she began to lean on Ginny more and tell her little bits of what had happened. She left out most of the details, but it was still refreshing to have someone to talk to about her fears. Both she and Ginny were heading off to university in less than two weeks. Ginny had a scholarship to Worcester Witches' College in Wales while Hermione would be returning to Gladwick University for Witches and Wizards. She had managed to catch up on most of her subjects now that her ability to concentrate had mostly returned, and she was cautiously looking forward to going back to school and moving on with her life. 


	3. Chapter 3

Resolution : Chapter 3 of 13  
  
With a combination of anticipation and trepidation, Hermione returned to Gladwick University in the fall. Much to her dismay, her roommate, Lidia was the type of person she could never become friends with. Although the witch may have been blessed with brains, she lacked in all the other areas that Hermione respected. Listening to her roommate's comments regarding the articles she read in Witch Weekly, as if it were the utmost authority, Hermione shook her head. She had thought it inevitable that Lidia would know who she, Hermione Granger, was, just by her name, but it seemed that her Muggleborn roommate didn't bother to follow the news of the Wizarding world. Hermione wasn't sure if she was grateful for this or not. Sooner or later, Lidia would find out who she was. Hermione was ready to deal with it now, not days or weeks from now, when surely Lidia would spring it on her when she was least prepared. Hermione sighed deeply as her roommate enchanted her finger and toenails to a bright pink and talked at great length about her beauty and all of the wizards she hoped to attract this year, adding to the long list of those she had managed to bed the year before. Hermione wondered if Lidia was trying to set a new record. Hermione gathered her books and headed to the library. Classes started the next day and she wanted to be ready. It seemed that studying in her room would not be an option this semester. Idly, she wondered what had happened to Judy, her roommate from her first year. She and Judy and had gotten along well, but because Hermione signed up for the fall semester so late, she'd had to accept a random room assignment.  
  
The first week of classes went better than she expected. Molly had given her the potions that Professor Snape had left and she planned to ration them carefully, although she had used up all of the anti-anxiety potions just to get through the first week. She had thought about owling Professor Snape for more, but she knew she couldn't depend on potions forever; sooner or later she would have to make it on her own.  
  
Some people remembered her from her first semester. Those that knew her mostly acted like nothing had happened. Others stared and whispered behind her back. But by the end of the first week, even that seemed to be passing. Soon, she was just another student in the crowd. A particularly charming wizard by the name of Rowland was in all of her classes except for Magical Plants and Their Uses. She had to laugh as all the first years chased after the handsome man. She remembered him from her first semester, but they had never talked as far as she could recall.  
  
At first she didn't pay much attention when Rowland started sitting next to her in class. Hermione was always early and sat in front. Rowland barely made it to class on time, and often the only seats left were the ones in the front, so it didn't seem all that strange to her. He always smile at her, as if he was happy to see her. He started asking how her day was, telling her that her hair looked nice. She found him slightly overbearing at times, but overall he seemed like a nice guy. Curiously enough, she started seeing him in the dining hall at lunch and dinner time. Mere coincidence, she thought. But soon, he joined her dining table and made small talk with her. He listened intently to her academic interests, sharing few of his own. After one particularly intense conversation on politics and the Ministry, he reached over and stroked her hand. She instantly recoiled from his touch and he pulled back, looking wounded by her reaction. She ended up apologizing. Some inner part of her was sending up red flags around the attention he was giving her and how he was acting, but her more logical side rationalized that she had little experience with dating and, due to what had happened to her, she was bound to be a little shy around men. After all, he seemed like a decent wizard and, more importantly, he seemed interested in her when most people busied themselves avoiding her.  
  
She also ran into Judy and the two of them hit it off right away. Judy's boyfriend was having a party that weekend and, against Hermione's better judgment, she agreed to go. She couldn't hide in the library forever, Judy reasoned. Plus, Judy assured her it would be small. When Hermione arrived that Friday night, the party was anything but small. She would have snuck right back out the door if Judy hadn't grabbed her by the arm and dragged her in, introducing Hermione to her boyfriend and any other people that happened to be in the immediate vicinity. In a matter of moments, though, Judy had been pulled away and Hermione was left standing in the center of a room, milling with witches and wizards she didn't know.  
  
Then, as if out of nowhere, Rowland was at her side. A wave of relief swept over her. Always the perfect gentleman, he offered Hermione his arm and led her to a quiet corner, secluded from the music and the crowds. Hermione noticed he was a bit hesitant to let go, but she assumed he was just being overprotective. She was definitely used to that as of late. Picking up on her nervousness, he offered to get her a drink.  
  
"I don't drink," she laughed, shaking her head.  
  
"How about some sparkling pumpkin juice, then?"  
  
She agreed to that and when he left, she felt exposed again. She never should have let Judy talk her into coming. She wished she had some of her anti-anxiety potion left; she definitely needed it now.  
  
Rowland returned a little while later, handing her a drink while he took a sip of his own drink, presumably spiked punch of some sort.  
  
"You look particularly beautiful tonight, Hermione."  
  
Hermione practically choked on her drink at his words. Blushing, she managed a thank-you before turning away.  
  
"You're not used to compliments."  
  
"No, I'm not," she admitted.  
  
"But I'm sure you get plenty of them," he said, his voice seductive, his eyes trained on hers.  
  
"Actually, no, but thank you," she said, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze.  
  
Hoping to change the subject, she said, "So, how are your classes going?"  
  
"Hermione," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder, "must we always talk about classes? Don't you ever have fun?"  
  
She tried to move away from him, but he pulled her closer.  
  
"Relax honey, you're always so tense. Have I ever hurt you?"  
  
Her heart was racing as she tried to decipher what was happening. Was she overreacting? Was he just a wizard hitting on a witch he liked? Was she just being a prude, as her roommate constantly accused her?  
  
Taking a deep breath, she pushed his arm away. "I appreciate your kindness, Rowland, but I'm not ready for a relationship."  
  
"Who said anything about a relationship?"  
  
Confusion spread over her. What was he getting at? Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, she looked towards the door. She didn't know if something was wrong with him or her, but something definitely felt wrong. "I'm sorry, but I really must be going."  
  
Something changed in his eyes then. "You could finish the drink I went to all that trouble getting for you."  
  
Yes, that would be the polite thing to do. She finished it in a few more sips while he watched her carefully. She felt her skin crawling under his gaze. Perhaps he'd had too much to drink. Whatever the case may be, he wasn't acting like the perfect gentleman anymore. It wasn't so much anything he'd said or done, but rather the vibes he was giving off.  
  
As she made her way to stand, her legs suddenly felt wobbly and her head began to spin. The room swam in and out of focus.  
  
"Feeling a little dizzy, are you?" Rowland said, pushing her back onto the couch and hovering over her, blocking her from the rest of the party with his back.  
  
The horror set in as she realized he had put something in her drink.  
  
She felt one hand pinning her down while the other groped at her through her shirt. She tried to struggle but the effects of the drug were draining her of her strength. "Stop," she whimpered, unable to muster anything more. "Stop!" But even her yell came out as little more than a vehemently whispered command. As uncooperative as her body was being, her brain was still working, albeit more slowly than normal. She realized that even if she could scream at the top of her lungs, no one would hear her over the music.  
  
She inhaled sharply as he leaned into her, pressing his erection against her leg.  
  
"I've been waiting for this since I set eyes on you the first day of class."  
  
Suddenly she realized that all those red flags had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the mixed signals he had been sending all along.  
  
She gasped as he jammed his hand down the front of her jeans, roughly seeking his pleasure against her limp body.  
  
"I know you want me, Mudblood," he said, his voice malicious. "Just like you wanted them."  
  
She tried to push him away, but he slammed her into the couch harder, her head hitting the wall behind her.  
  
"Did you fight them, Hermione, like you're fighting me? I bet you enjoyed every minute of it. I bet you begged for it. I'm going to make you beg for me, you little witch."  
  
Shock traveled through her body in waves. He couldn't mean... what else could he mean? Her eyes met his then. Even through her blurred vision she could see the look in his eyes. It was the same sadistic look that Lucius had always given her before he raped her. A look of contempt mixed with the power associated with dominating someone so totally.  
  
"There are advantages to shagging the Malfoy whore and I plan to experience every one of them."  
  
Malfoy whore. Malfoy whore. That's what people call me behind my back. The Malfoy whore.  
  
Her scream was muffled as he slapped his hand over her mouth and drove his fingers inside of her.  
  
Malfoy whore. Suddenly, a wave of anger coursed through her veins. She was NOT a whore, and she did NOT enjoy what had been done to her or was being done to her now. She felt the wave of adrenaline rush over her. She bit his hand, causing him to recoil momentarily before pulling his arm back to hit her. But the adrenaline heightened her senses and she already had her wand out before he could strike her. Without thinking, she uttered the curse she had longed to throw at Lucius all those months. Knowing her time was limited, she Apparated back to her room where she collapsed to the floor.  
  
In the morning, she felt sick to her stomach. She wasn't sure what Rowland had put in her drink but it had been potent whatever it was. She barely made it to the trash bin in her room in time to empty the contents of her stomach. Her head ached. Her body ached. She closed her eyes; the night before was a blur. The words, Malfoy whore, still echoed in her head. The thought of it still made her angry. The thought of Rowland made her skin crawl.  
  
Lidia came in and started chastising Hermione for not being able to hold her alcohol. Lidia informed Hermione that her sudden appearance and collapse had put an end to the "relations" she was having with the captain of the Quidditch team. Hermione shook her head, too sick and weak to argue. If the situation had been reversed, Hermione would have at least dragged her roommate's limp form into bed instead of leaving her passed out on the cold, hard floor. 


	4. Chapter 4

Resolution : Chapter 4 of 13  
  
It had been a month since Rowland had assaulted her. The nightmares of Lucius had returned full force after that night. She found herself at their mercy since she had run out of the dreamless sleep potion. It was a controlled substance and she couldn't obtain more without contacting Professor Snape or the University Mediwitch, both of whom would want to know why she needed it.  
  
It was a cold November morning when Lidia burst into their room, an annoyed look on her face.  
  
"Some wizards are looking for you."  
  
Hermione's face blanched and her heart started racing. Hiding her trembling hands behind her back, she asked, "Who are they?"  
  
"How should I know?" was her snotty response.  
  
Trying again, Hermione asked, "What did they look like?"  
  
"One was tall with red hair and freckles, the other had dark, unruly hair and green eyes. Quite handsome, that one. What he would want with a prude like you is beyond me," Lidia said, shaking her head in disgust as she gave Hermione a once over.  
  
Ron and Harry! Relief rushed through her; it wasn't Rowland with some of his buddies. But her relief was quickly replaced by trepidation. She may be able to lie to Lidia, or even to herself, but Ron and Harry would see right through her.  
  
Feeling an urge to put Lidia in her place, Hermione said, "Have you ever heard of Harry Potter?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
Hermione just stared in disbelief. How could you live in the Wizarding world, even part time, and NOT know who Harry Potter was? He had defeated Lord Voldemort, had had his picture plastered all over the Wizarding news, and was the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world. That, if nothing else, should have rung a bell. Hermione grabbed one of Lidia's copies of Witch Weekly and found a picture, thrusting it at her roommate.  
  
Lidia's eyes lit up. Hermione saw the greed and chance at fame register on the witch's face.  
  
"Ooh, can you introduce me to him?"  
  
"Not on your life," Hermione snorted as she walked out of the room.  
  
Severus Snape had just finished teaching for the day. He studied the dungeon, shaking his head in disgust. Three cauldron explosions, two students sent to the Infirmary, and one blubbering Hufflepuff. And he thought his troubles were over when Longbottom, Weasley, and Potter had graduated two years ago. Were witches and wizards really that stupid in his day? Or was the Wizarding world truly going downhill?  
  
A knock at the dungeon door pulled him from his thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do right now was deal with more students. It was Friday afternoon and he was looking forward to a weekend free of the wretched creatures.  
  
He stalked to the door, glowering, prepared to bite the head off of whatever unlucky student dared breach his inner sanctum after hours.  
  
His eyes darkened at the sight of them; it was worse than some clueless first years.  
  
"Potter, Weasley," he said, the names rolling off his tongue like a bitter potion, "I thought I had rid myself of you two." He glared at them, daring them to mistake the look of loathing in his eyes. He took minute satisfaction in seeing the Weasley boy swallow hard at the unspoken threat. Potter, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and stepped past him into the dungeon, leaning against one of the benches.  
  
"Professor, we've come to talk to you about Hermione. We are worried about her." Harry's voice was direct and to the point.  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for whatever drivel they had come to bother him with.  
  
"She's not right," Ron said. "Something's very wrong. She looks dreadful."  
  
Harry cleared his throat, drawing Severus's attention. "She's thin, way too thin. Like she hasn't been eating. And although she cast a spell to cover it, there were dark circles under her eyes; she's not sleeping either." Harry paused, seeming to consider something. "I don't know if it's true or not, but her roommate said she's failing all her courses. We tried to ask her about it, but she wouldn't answer us."  
  
"And why are you telling me this?" Severus asked, his voice cold as ice.  
  
"Well, because we thought you might be able to help her," Ron blurted out.  
  
"You two are her friends. Shouldn't you be the ones helping her?" Severus challenged.  
  
Ron looked helplessly at Harry who had remained silent.  
  
"I told you we were wasting our time," Ron said, grabbing Harry and dragging him out of the dungeon.  
  
Severus shook his head as he heard Ron mutter under his breath.  
  
Stalking to the front of the classroom, Severus whipped around when he heard the dungeon door open and shut again. Harry stood, leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.  
  
Severus rolled his eyes. "What is it now?"  
  
Harry looked at Severus for a moment before speaking. "You may be able to fool everyone else, Professor, but you don't fool me."  
  
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Severus said, stalking Harry in his most intimidating manner, one that had been known to send wayward students scurrying.  
  
"I know you love her. I know you would do anything for her."  
  
Severus froze in his tracks, unaware that he had done so. His silence spoke volumes.  
  
"We couldn't get through to her. You may be her only chance. I've seen how she responds to you."  
  
Severus glared at Harry before turning his back on him.  
  
"For your information, Potter, I was already planning on visiting Miss Granger tomorrow."  
  
"Does she know?" Harry asked.  
  
When Severus reached the front of the room, he turned back to face Harry.  
  
"No."  
  
"Very well, Professor. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Potter let himself out of the dungeon without another word.  
  
Severus Snape spent the morning in Diagon Alley. The plant he had ordered for Hermione back in July had finally arrived. While he was there, he also picked up what he needed to replenish his potions stores. When he returned to the castle, a blustering winter wind was whipping snow around. He would be glad to Apparate to where Hermione was studying; surely the weather wouldn't be as cold in that part of England. Pulling the wool cloak around him, he hurried to the dungeons. The plant was a tropical plant, surely unsuited to this type of weather. He should have charmed a tropical environment around it before he Apparated back to the castle.  
  
He dropped off the potion ingredients in his storeroom and headed to his private rooms. He immediately knew something was wrong. His wards had been breached. He rushed inside his rooms, wand drawn. Whoever had broken in was gone. A quick overview of his rooms showed nothing out of the ordinary. Still, someone had been there. As he walked around his rooms once more, he saw it. Lying on his desk was a piece of parchment, the ink still fresh on the page.  
  
Severus,  
  
I'm very sorry I missed you. I wanted to say good-bye. I promised you I would try. Part of me is glad you weren't here; the other part would have liked to have seen you one last time to thank you for all you've done for me. I truly appreciate it.  
  
I love you,  
  
Hermione.  
  
Severus's mind reeled at her words as his heart pounded wildly against his chest. I promised you I would try. Suddenly, the conversation they'd had came rushing back to him.  
  
"I wish I had a potion to take away your pain, Hermione."  
  
"You do, it's called Endless Sleep."  
  
"What would you have done if you had found that potion?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Promise me you'll come to me first if it gets that bad."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Promise me, Hermione."  
  
"I'll try."  
  
Severus slammed his fist on the desk, causing the ink well to spill its contents onto the desk. She came to me for help and I wasn't here. Guilt warred with anger. Why didn't I go to her last night when Potter warned me? Why didn't she come to me sooner? Why did she wait until she had already made up her mind?  
  
Severus shook his head to clear his thoughts. The ink on the letter wasn't even dry yet; he must have just missed her. Where could she have gone? She would have to leave the grounds of Hogwarts to Apparate. He hadn't seen her when he walked up to the castle or to his dungeons so it was unlikely that she had left.  
  
Think, Severus! Where would you go if you wanted to commit suicide? A small voice inside his head said, To the highest place. The towers! Running through the towers in his mind, he decided that the North tower was the most likely candidate. It overlooked the back of the castle, a place where there was little foot traffic. No one would see her. Also, its entrance was closest to the dungeons in a part of the castle that was rarely used, hence no students would be milling about. And no one ever used the North tower. The last he knew, it was in dire need or repair.  
  
Severus burst from his rooms, not bothering to re-erect the wards as he left. He rushed through the winding corridors, hoping against hope that he wasn't too late. When he reached the entrance to the North Tower, he realized it had been warded. He knew then that he would find her. He only hoped that he would find her alive.  
  
Breaking through the wards, he ran up the spiraling stairs. When he reached the top, he stopped dead in his tracks. There, on the ledge, the slight form of a witch with brown curls whipping in the wind stood perched on the ledge, her back to him.  
  
"Hermione." His voice was soft and pleading.  
  
"Don't," she said, her voice laden with tears.  
  
He studied her slight form balanced precariously, looking out over the Hogwarts grounds, her fingers gripping the column she stood next to. One strong gust of wind and she would be blown right off, he thought to himself.  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
She shook her head, her fingernails digging into the crumbling granite.  
  
"I won't try and stop you, Hermione. I just want to know why."  
  
He could practically see her inner struggle before she finally spoke.  
  
"I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be better if everyone knew."  
  
He could hear the tears in her voice.  
  
"Ron and Harry came to see me yesterday. I envy them. They have a life. I only have a past."  
  
She paused before continuing. "Do you know what they call me at school? They call me the Malfoy whore. I used to be the intelligent witch who fought valiantly against Voldemort. I used to have a future. Now I'm just a whore."  
  
Severus bit his tongue. He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, but instinct told him to let her get it all out.  
  
"When I was young and stupid, I used to dream that someday I would meet a fairytale prince and I would have a fairytale wedding and that my fairytale husband and I would live happily ever after. I was saving myself for that man." She sighed before adding sarcastically, "For all the good it did."  
  
When she didn't say any more, Severus spoke. "You can still have that, Hermione."  
  
"I wish. No man will ever love me, not after what Lucius did to me. Oh, Harry and Ron love me, but not like that. Not like a man loves a woman; not like a husband loves a wife." She shook her head. "No one will ever love me like that," she whispered.  
  
Severus took a tentative step forward and inhaled deeply. This was not how he had envisioned telling her. "Hermione, I love you. I love you like that."  
  
"You're only saying that so I won't jump."  
  
Severus gritted his teeth. He was not one to express emotions and to have to repeat himself was painful to say the least. "Hermione, I have never lied to you. Nor would I lie about something like this, regardless of the circumstances."  
  
He watched her closely as she seemed to ponder his words.  
  
Taking another step closer, he whispered, "I love you, Hermione Granger, more than I ever thought possible."  
  
She spun around so fast he didn't catch her words. Instead, he was focused on her foot which had slipped, causing her to lose her balance. Severus lunged for her petite frame, his fingers snatching at the place where her robes had hung a moment before. Time slowed as he watched the woman he loved tumble backwards from the tower ledge, her screams echoing mercilessly in his head. 


	5. Chapter 5

Resolution : Chapter 5 of 13  
  
Severus rocked her small body in his arms, holding her tight to his chest. His heart was racing. He knew that every place in Hogwarts was protected by charms and wards, such that students could not jump from high places or otherwise do injury to themselves. He had checked those wards when he arrived at the unused tower; indeed they were intact. Still, the momentary panic that had rocked him when she fell backwards before being caught by the wards was enough to make his head spin and bile rise in his throat.  
  
Hermione looked up at him with brown eyes that could melt a man's heart. "Do you really love me?"  
  
"Yes, I do," he whispered.  
  
"You never told me."  
  
"I thought you had quite enough to concern yourself with."  
  
She snuggled closer into his chest, tears clinging to her wind-burned cheeks. "Take me home, Severus."  
  
"Home?" he asked, unsure of her request.  
  
"To your chambers."  
  
Severus's was stunned by her words. She considered his chambers home? Well, now was not the time to question the woman who might still change her mind about taking her own life. Instead, he made his way back down the tower stairs with her in his arms. It suddenly occurred to him that he was clinging to her as fiercely as she clung to him.  
  
Severus set Hermione down on the couch in his study. Harry had been right. She was far too thin and she had not been sleeping. What could account for this sudden change? As if noticing that he was cataloging her condition, she shrank further into the couch, trying to hide from his gaze.  
  
He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. The timid look in her eyes made him decide that interrogating her could wait. Instead, he asked, "Are you hungry?"  
  
She looked relieved. "Famished, actually."  
  
Lunch was a pleasant enough affair. She couldn't remember the last time she had been able to eat in peace. She could see Severus's watchful eyes; he was making sure she eating the food on her plate. If you only knew, she thought to herself. Although he wasn't pressuring her to talk at that precise moment, she knew he would not let her off the hook so easily. He would have had to be blind not to notice her dreadful appearance. She herself had been shocked when she looked in the mirror that morning; she had lost too much weight and the lack of sleep showed on her face. She was relieved that he was giving her a little time though. Time to get used to the idea of being back in the one place she felt safe. Time to tell him what had happened that had sent her into this downward spiral.  
  
He allowed her the luxury of a nap and bath before dinner. She relished in both. Dinner was quiet and contemplative. She knew he was waiting for her to bring up the subject, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to shatter the sliver of peace she found here with him. She returned to his chambers to get ready for bed. He had laid out a pair of silk green pajamas for her. She had to laugh when she slipped into them. The top was supposed to be short sleeved, but the sleeves went past her elbows. And while it probably only came to Severus's waist, the top drifted down to the middle of her thighs. The pants slid off her hips and pooled at her feet; they were no use at all. Instead, she opted for wearing just the top.  
  
When she finally emerged from his chambers, he was sitting in his study, contemplating the fire with a scowl on his face. She studied him from the doorway for a long moment. The man she loved, the man that loved her.  
  
"Are you going to stare at me all evening?" Severus inquired, still staring into the fire.  
  
She blushed. "No, I suppose not."  
  
Their eyes met and he patted the place next to him on the couch. She joined him on the couch, covering her bare legs with a blanket. It was nice to be sitting here with him again, the warmth of the fire taking the chill out of the dungeons.  
  
She took a deep breath and sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I suppose you'd like to know why I'm here?"  
  
She felt his arm wrap around her shoulder and closed her eyes. Comfort; pure and simple.  
  
"I wasn't trying to starve myself, if that's what you were wondering," she began, not sure where to start. She knew his silence meant that he was listening, waiting for the whole sordid story to pour out of her. Still leaning against him, she tucked her legs beneath her and settled in.  
  
After many moments had passed, she finally said, "I can't go back there."  
  
"What happened, Hermione?" His voice was full of concern.  
  
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories and the tears that sprang to her eyes. "His name is Rowland Deveron. He is in almost all of my classes. At first, I hardly noticed him. But soon it became obvious even to me that he was going out of his way to talk to me. He sat by me in class and seemed like a perfect gentleman most of the time. And since everyone else seemed to be avoiding me, his attentiveness was kind of nice. Soon, I began to see him everywhere; wherever I was, he was. He started sitting by me at lunch and dinner. For the most part, we just talked about school and such. Once in awhile, he would reach out to touch me, but that made me uncomfortable. I thought I was just being oversensitive."  
  
"Then one night, my roommate from first year invited me to a party at her boyfriend's house. I really didn't want to go, but she insisted. She promised me it would just be a small gathering. It wasn't. After dragging me inside, she quickly deserted me. That was when Rowland showed up. At first I was relieved because he was someone I knew and someone I thought I could trust. He had never given me any reason not to trust him. Although I felt uncomfortable around him sometimes, I thought it was just me being uncomfortable around men in general."  
  
She wiped away her tears and felt Severus draw her in closer. "He led me to a secluded corner to get away from the crowd. He offered to get me something to drink and I told him I didn't drink alcohol. So he got me a sparkling pumpkin juice instead. Then he started getting fresh and I told him I wasn't interested and wanted to leave. He made some comment about me finishing my drink after all the trouble he went through to get it. I should have known..."  
  
Regaining her composure, she continued. "When I tried to stand up to leave, I got very dizzy. I realized then that he must have put something in my drink. He didn't waste any time forcing himself on me. I tried to fight him, but the drug made me weak."  
  
She knew the second Severus's heart rate and breathing changed. She could feel the anger emanating off of him. "What did he do to you, Hermione?" His voice was calm, even though she knew he was seething beneath his controlled exterior.  
  
She swallowed. "He only got as far as holding me down and putting his hand in my pants. It was what he said that really got to me. He called me 'the Malfoy whore.'"  
  
"I knew then what everyone had been whispering when they saw me. I was known around campus as the Malfoy whore. I think I was angrier at that moment than I had ever been before. I felt a rush of adrenaline and it overpowered the effects of the drug. I was able to push him off of me and Apparate back to my dorm room, where I passed out on the floor."  
  
"I was worried about going to classes the following week, but I didn't think he would harass me in public. I was wrong. He made a point of sitting next to me in class and making lewd comments to me. Then he started harassing me after class and threatening to "have his way with me" just as soon as he caught me walking alone down some deserted corridor. I was terrified of being alone. I was terrified of him." She paused and shuttered at the thought of him.  
  
"Then he started waiting for me in the cafeteria. He constantly taunted me about what he and his buddies were going to do to me. Soon I stopped going to my classes and I stopped going to the cafeteria. I was too afraid to run into him. I knew sooner or later he would grab me and I'd disappear, just like with Lucius."  
  
"It was more than just me being afraid of what he would do to me, though. It was the things he said. He never called me Hermione anymore, he always called me the Malfoy whore, which then turned into 'my whore.' He said that a Mudblood whore like me was only good for one thing. He said I wanted what was done to me, just like I wanted him. He said that I liked it. That I begged for it. I didn't want Lucius to rape me, I didn't. And I didn't like it. But..." Her words were cut off as she broke into sobs.  
  
"But what Hermione?"  
  
"But I did beg for it. I begged Lucius to rape me. He would do things to me that were so incredibly awful that him raping me seemed better than whatever else he was doing or going to do. I asked for it, Severus. I didn't want to, but I did."  
  
"Look at me," Severus commanded roughly.  
  
When Hermione finally turned to meet his eyes, he said, "You did NOT ask for Lucius to rape you. The only choice you had was to choose the lesser of two evils. That does not mean that you wanted him to do the evil things he did to you. It simply means that you did what you had to do to survive."  
  
"It was so awful, Severus," she said, burying her head in his chest.  
  
She felt him inhale sharply as he held her to him, stroking her back. "I know."  
  
"If it's not Lucius, it's Rowland. If not him, it'll be someone else. I'm damaged goods, Severus. No one will ever look at me as anything more than a whore, someone to be used and thrown out. Not someone to love and cherish and make a wife. I don't want to live like that."  
  
She felt him stiffen beneath her, but she continued. "And it doesn't matter anyway, because I could never let a man touch me again, not ever. So what good am I?"  
  
When Hermione finally looked up at Severus, his eyes were blazing. She blinked, surprised by the intensity they held.  
  
"You, Miss Granger, are NOT a whore, nor are you so-called 'damaged goods.' You are the most brilliant, beautiful, and amazing witch I have ever met, and I, for one, would marry you in a heartbeat. As for letting a man touch you, Hermione, if it's the right man, anything is possible." His hand grazed her cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen there.  
  
"How can you even want me, after everything he did to me?"  
  
"Because, Hermione, no one has ever made love to you before."  
  
She looked away. "And no one ever will."  
  
"Why's that?" his rich voice inquired.  
  
"Because I can't stand a man touching me."  
  
The back of his hand brushed across her cheek once again, while his other arm was still possessively wrapped around her back. "I'm touching you now, Hermione."  
  
As her eyes met his, she saw for the first time that the love that she had secretly held for this man was reflected in his eyes for her. She wanted to believe this was possible, this thing between them, but she knew better. She looked away, too consumed with grief to meet his eyes any longer.  
  
"I could never have sex with a man, not after what happened."  
  
"You can, Hermione, you can and you will. But I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about making love. What happened to you was not sex; you were raped. There is no comparison."  
  
"Still, it's too painful. I never want to experience that pain again."  
  
"Making love should never be painful. It is beautiful and magical and full of pleasure."  
  
She closed her eyes, shaking her head.  
  
"Even if you're right, and even if I could do that again, which I highly doubt, no man would be willing to wait for me to get to that point."  
  
"The right man would wait for you." He leaned his cheek on the top of her head and whispered, "I would wait for you."  
  
"Even if it took me ten years?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"Yes, even if it took you ten years."  
  
She sat back and looked at him. "Why?"  
  
His eyes bore as much sincerity as his voice. "Because you are worth it."  
  
She took a deep breath. "I'm afraid."  
  
"What are you afraid of?"  
  
"I'm afraid you don't love me as much as..." she swallowed and closed her eyes, "as much as I love you. I'm afraid you don't really want me and that I'm just setting myself up for heartbreak." She paused and met his eyes. "I'm afraid of being vulnerable."  
  
"Don't be," he said, his dark eyes burning with love. "You have nothing to be afraid of, not from me."  
  
"I know, but I'm still scared."  
  
His gaze was intense. Before she knew what she was going to say, she blurted out, "Will you kiss me?"  
  
At that he looked taken aback. She pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by her words as well as confirming he didn't really feel the way she felt about him.  
  
He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I would love to kiss you, Hermione, but are you sure?"  
  
As she looked into his eyes there wasn't anything she was more sure of in her life. "Yes," she said, leaning into him.  
  
Severus's heart raced at her request. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss the beautiful witch in front of him. But more than that, he didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to rush her. He never wanted her to feel she was being forced into anything with him. He never wanted her to recoil from his touch. He wanted her to make the first move. He wanted her to be ready. He didn't want her to regret anything they did together. And now she was asking him to kiss her.  
  
He grazed his lips across her, gently at first, teasingly almost. Her lips were soft and smooth and he wanted more of them, but he restrained himself. Now was not the time to rush things, even though his body was begging to differ. He kissed her again; still chaste, but a little longer. When their lips touched the third time, she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Without conscious thought, his tongue slipped into her mouth, searching for hers. Her response sent hot waves of desire coursing through his body. He longed to wrap her tightly in his arms and lay her down on the couch, kiss her until she was breathless and ready and eager. But he knew he couldn't do that; not tonight anyway. He reined in his desire and focused on showing her the potential of a mere kiss.  
  
He ran his hands through her hair, separating her curls. The feel of her body pressed against his was exquisite. When she slid her hand under his shirt and up his back, a moan escaped from him. Gods, she felt good; better than he could have ever imagined. And Merlin knew he spent plenty of time imagining what she would feel like.  
  
When she ran her free hand through his hair, he had to struggle to hang on. This was escalating beyond his wildest dreams, at least for him. Reluctantly, he maneuvered their kiss to an end, holding her back slightly to see her flushed cheeks, her heavy-lidded eyes. He gently kissed her swollen lips, trailing his kisses across her cheek to her neck before pulling her into an embrace.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"With the right man, Hermione, anything is possible."  
  
She was still reeling from his kiss. She had never experienced anything like that before. She had never thought it possible. Although she'd had a crush on Severus since the summer, try as she might, she could only conjure vague images of what it would be like to kiss him. Anything beyond that was totally out of the question. But nothing in her wildest dreams lived up to the way his kiss made her feel: warm and tingly and safe and loved. She felt loved by a man: the way a man loves a woman, the way a husband loves a wife. She thanked him, as much for the kiss as for how he made her feel.  
  
"Severus?" she asked, pulling out of his embrace. She noted that his eyes still blazed for her.  
  
"Will you sleep with me tonight? I don't want to be alone. I want... I want to fall asleep in your arms and I want to wake up in the morning still in your arms. I want to know this isn't a dream."  
  
His eyes softened. "It would be my pleasure."  
  
Hermione crawled into Severus's huge, soft bed. She smelled his scent on the pillows. Wrapping herself in the luxurious covers, she smiled. After everything that had happened to her, this was the only place that felt like home. At that thought, a wave of anxiety went through her. She pushed it away. At least for tonight, she would relish that feeling, and, she would be safe.  
  
Hermione smiled as Severus crawled into bed next to her, his hair still damp from his shower. He wore a pair of black lounge pants and a white button-down shirt, untucked.  
  
As she snuggled against him, the sensation of coldness seeped through the thin cotton covering his chest. "You're freezing!" she proclaimed. Realizing what he had done and why, she blushed furiously, averting her eyes from his.  
  
He just smirked, and kissed her on the forehead. "Go to sleep, my dear."  
  
Together they lay in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Hermione could no longer contain her anxiety.  
  
"Severus?" she said, the worry she was trying to hide creeping into her voice.  
  
He reached out and brushed a stray curl from her face, concern in his eyes, "What is it?"  
  
"I don't want to go back to Gladwick. Ever."  
  
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, I imagine we'll have to go back at least once to get your belongings, don't you?"  
  
She searched his eyes; he wasn't joking. "But you once said that it wouldn't be inappropriate for me to share your quarters during the semester if we weren't married." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to pull them back. She realized just how presumptuous it was to assume that he would even want her here with him. Surely he was thinking she would return to the Burrow.  
  
But his eyes were warm. "There are ways, Miss Granger, there are ways."  
  
"Oh," was all she managed to say, a smile slipping across her lips.  
  
She rolled over so that her back was against his chest. She curved her body into his so that they were perfectly aligned from head to toe. Nuzzling her head under his chin, she murmured, "Good night, Severus."  
  
She felt him release the breath she hadn't been aware he was holding until his chest started to move against her back.  
  
"Good night, Hermione."  
  
She snuggled into him as he put his arm around her, holding her close. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was: Home. 


	6. Chapter 6

Resolution: Chapter 6 of 13  
  
Hermione awoke to the rise and fall of his chest against her cheek and an arm draped around her waist. Sighing, she snuggled closer to him, the familiar planes of his clothed skin caressing her cheek. What she wouldn't give to wake up like this every morning. Lazily, she traced the pattern of buttons on his shirt. She felt his sudden intake of breath and raised her sleepy eyes to meet his infinitely more awake ones.  
  
"Good morning." His voice was silky and sent shivers down her spine as she looked into his eyes.  
  
She smiled shyly, splaying her hand across his chest. "How long have you been awake?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders and set down the book he was reading. "Hungry?"  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Around noon."  
  
"Noon?!?" she proclaimed, jumping up.  
  
"It appears you needed your sleep."  
  
"I guess so." Suddenly, she remembered the words she had spoken the night before: I want to fall asleep in your arms and I want to wake up in the morning still in your arms. I want to know this isn't a dream. "You waited for me," she said, amazed.  
  
"I wanted you to know it wasn't a dream."  
  
With the right man, anything is possible.  
  
She smiled at him warmly. "Thank you, Severus."  
  
"You are very welcome."  
  
Breakfast was actually lunch, given the time of day. As they ate in silence, she wondered if the dark circles under her eyes had lessened at all. She was relieved to be able to eat on a regular basis again. She felt infinitely more relaxed overall, now that she was back in familiar territory with the man that had a way of making her feel safe. How long would it last, though? Tomorrow was Monday. He would have to teach, and she would have to return to her classes as well. Surely, he had been just placating her yesterday.  
  
Resolutely, she asked, "When do I have to leave?"  
  
He set down his fork and contemplated her question. "I didn't know you were leaving."  
  
"Aren't I?"  
  
"That depends," his rich voice echoed.  
  
"Depends on what?"  
  
"Depends on you, Hermione. What do you want?"  
  
She looked away, knowing that what she wanted didn't really matter. Everyone else wanted what was best for her; surely he'd be no different. "I want to stay here. I don't want to go back to that school. But I don't really have a choice, do I?"  
  
He was looking at her quite strangely, she thought.  
  
"What makes you think you don't have a choice?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "And what choice do I have? I highly doubt you would let me quit school and throw away my future over some jerk who just happens to scare the daylights out of me. And..." She stopped when his hand grasped hers, his eyes meeting hers with an intense gaze.  
  
"Slow down, woman. You have choices. I would not make you do something against your will. Ever. Nor do I think that Gladwick is the best place for you right now. But what I think does not matter. What you think does."  
  
"What choices do I have?" she nearly whispered, unsure of her footing in this conversation.  
  
Severus cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. With a smug look on his face, he said, "I have spoken with Albus. We would like to offer you the position of Assistant Potions Master. As you know, my research is very important to me and I get precious little time to work on it during the school year. However, with an assistant, much could be accomplished. If you choose to accept, you would be offered living space here at the castle."  
  
She wondered if her face betrayed the astonishment she felt.  
  
He leaned forward and continued. "However, that is far from your only option. There are several other top notch universities that would be honored to have you. If you do not wish to take a break from your studies, we would be more than happy to provide recommendations for you to enroll in another university of your choosing."  
  
She wanted to thank him, but instead she just stared at him, speechless.  
  
"You do not have to return to Gladwick, Hermione. I would hate to see your talent go to waste."  
  
She hadn't known he would support her so fully. His faith in her felt wonderful. "I don't know what to say," she managed.  
  
"You don't have to decide now. Give it some thought."  
  
"How much time do I have?" she asked.  
  
"As much time as you need, Hermione."  
  
"And I don't have to go back to Gladwick?"  
  
"Only to collect your belongings."  
  
"And will you accompany me?"  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
It was late that afternoon when Hermione and Severus Apparated near her dormitory at Gladwick University. She led him up the back stairway. Severus presumed it was because she wanted to avoid running into anyone she knew. He had noticed the change in her demeanor the instant they had Apparated. She became tense, panicked almost. Her skin lost some of its color, and she looked around nervously. Once inside her room, she seemed to relax a little. He sat at the desk in the corner while she packed, looking over her textbooks and occasionally commenting on their quality, or lack thereof. He knew that he had very high standards for education. While most professors catered to the common denominator of student intelligence, he selected texts based on their merits which usually meant that only the best and brightest students would benefit from their full effect.  
  
Hermione looked up when the door to her room opened. Severus watched her carefully. He could not see who was standing in the entryway.  
  
"And just where were you last night?" The feminine voice was both accusing and brash.  
  
He watched Hermione's hands ball into fists and her eyes grow cold.  
  
"Who wants to know?"  
  
The mysterious female laughed maliciously. "If I thought you were with a man, I'd compliment you. But no one would want the likes of you. Hell, I'd bend over backwards to sleep with Rowland, but you are too good for him. Is that it? He was here you know, him and friends. They were waiting for you last night. Said you had a date. But you didn't have the guts to go out with a real man, did you? I saw him downstairs just now. He was quite angry that you stood him up last night. I don't know why he bothers with you when there are so many other witches who are much prettier and more willing than you. I would have brought him up with me if I had have known you were here."  
  
Severus listened in disbelief as this unknown witch berated Hermione. Her face had blanched considerably and she was trembling slightly, although he wasn't sure if it was from fear or rage.  
  
"Since you're obviously too stupid to know how all of this works, I feel it my duty to educate you. Come, I will take you to him."  
  
Severus stepped forward, standing between Hermione and the offending witch. "Please do," he intoned, the crisp edges of his voice meant to intimidate. "I'd like to meet this Rowland."  
  
He watched with pleasure as the witch went pale and stuttered incoherently at him. She shot an accusing look at Hermione, but Severus couldn't see Hermione's reaction. Instead, he refocused the witch's attention on him by clearing his throat. "I'm waiting."  
  
The witch seemed to regain her composure. "And just who the hell do you think you are? I don't take commands from strangers."  
  
"Severus Snape," he spat out at the witch, stepping closer to intimidate her. "But you shall call me Sir. I suggest you introduce me to this Rowland." The witch looked like a cross between afraid and outraged. He thought it best to play on the former. "NOW!" he bellowed. He shot Hermione a backwards glance to tell her to stay where she was while he followed the witch through the long, winding corridors and down the stairs.  
  
When they emerged into the lobby, he followed her gaze, quickly locating a group of students gathered on the east side of the common area. He lagged a step behind her, not wanting anyone to realize they were together.  
  
As they approached, an arrogant-looking young man spoke. "Hey Lidia. Is the bitch back yet?"  
  
Lidia. Hermione had mentioned her: the roommate from hell. Lidia remained silent as Severus closed in behind her, his eyes trained on the young wizard.  
  
"You must be Rowland."  
  
The young wizard puffed out his chest as if he were some kind of exotic bird. "Yeah, what's it to you old man?"  
  
Severus seethed at Rowland's arrogance.  
  
"I'll just be going now," Lidia said in a timid voice.  
  
Severus's voice stopped her cold. "You will stay," he commanded.  
  
Returning his gaze to Rowland, he stalked forward, forcing Rowland to take a couple of steps backward until his back was against the wall.  
  
"Tell me, Rowland, how many women have you raped?" Severus's voice was not much above a whisper but carried the same threat as if he had yelled it. He saw Lidia's eyes open wide in his peripheral vision.  
  
Rowland tried to stand up straighter. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Do you drug them all before you rape them? Or do you just use physical force on the weaker ones?"  
  
"Jeffrey, Marcus, alert the guards that this man is harassing me."  
  
Severus turned his gaze on Rowland's friends. "Yes, please do. I would like to press formal charges against this disgrace of a wizard."  
  
"On whose word? And who the hell are you anyway?"  
  
"Severus Snape." He paused to allow the recognition wash over the wizard's faces. Much to Severus's chagrin, his exploits as a ruthless double agent Death Eater had been fodder for the Wizarding media due to his outstanding efforts in the war against Voldemort. Aside from his reputation at Hogwarts, his mere name struck fear in the hearts of most witches and wizards. Severus noted that Rowland's friends were frozen in place. No one sought out the guards.  
  
"And have you raped so many women that you need me to clarify which one I speak of?"  
  
Rowland started stuttering. "That whore wanted me! She begged me to! And then she... why, that witch cast the Testiculo Excrucio curse on me! After all I'd done for her!" His friends instinctively shielded their crotches and winced in imagined pain. Severus probably would have done the same under different circumstances. Now, he inwardly congratulated her for her quick thinking.  
  
"Is that what you tell yourself? That they want it?"  
  
Rowland laughed. "The Malfoy whore is only good for one thing..."  
  
Rowland's sentence ended abruptly as Severus threw him up against the wall, knocking the breath out of him. "You will NEVER call her that again, do you understand me?"  
  
Rowland looked as though Severus had shot the killing curse at him. His eyes were wide and he wasn't breathing. Severus let go and watched as the boy crumpled to the floor. "I suggest you pack your bags. You won't be at this school much longer."  
  
With that, Severus walked away. Hermione was waiting for him. 


	7. Chapter 7

Resolution: Chapter 7 of 13  
  
Hermione was going home. It hadn't taken her long to make up her mind. Although she intended to complete her studies in the future, now was not the time she decided. Trying to start at a new university mid-semester would be difficult and add more stress to her already stressful life. And more than anything else, she wanted to be near Severus, she wanted to feel safe. She wanted to regain her sense of self before she ventured back out into the world. Severus and Albus were willing to give her that chance. For that, she was eternally grateful. If she had other reasons, reasons relating to her feelings towards said Potions Master, she wasn't willing to admit that those reasons might have played a role in her decision. For now, she would just be happy she was away from Gladwick and back at Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione and Severus Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts. She hadn't asked him what had happened with Rowland. She didn't want to know. All that mattered was that she had left that school forever and that she was safe. Instead, she focused on what lay ahead.  
  
"May I have a look at your research?" she asked.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"If I do take this position, will I simply be completing your research, or will I be adding my own thoughts to it?"  
  
"That depends. Some of the projects are nearly finished and just need to be tested. Some are in the beginning stages and much work needs to be done. Others fall somewhere in-between. If you do choose to accept the position offered to you, I would hope you would choose a less well defined project so that you could add your own thoughts and expertise to mine."  
  
"Would you really value my opinion on your research?"  
  
"I would not have offered you the position if I didn't think you had something to add to it."  
  
After dinner, Hermione and Severus retired to the study. Severus graded papers while Hermione sat in front of the fireplace, going over Severus's research notes. Although she had helped Severus with his research when she stayed with him over the summer, then she had merely followed his instructions and brewed what he had asked her to. Now, she was searching for a project where she could add her knowledge to Severus's. She especially wanted to find one that was particularly challenging. She most enjoyed her university classes in the area of magical plants. Since plants were such an integral part of potions, she hoped her knowledge in that area could advance his work. When she finished going through the stack of research notebooks, she frowned.  
  
"Does nothing there interest you?" Severus asked.  
  
She looked up and realized he must have been watching her. "I was just hoping one of the projects would stand out as something I could really add value to. These are all very worthwhile and interesting research projects, and I'm sure I could assist you with them, but I don't see that there is much I can offer that you wouldn't have been able to do without me. I was hoping to be able to advance your work, not just complete it."  
  
She watched with curiosity as he slid open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a much smaller stack of older notebooks. "These are projects I have been unable to complete for various reasons. Some were unsuccessful, others were overzealous accidents that looked promising but did not pan out. You may find something of interest in here."  
  
Eagerly, she combed through the notebooks, setting aside three that she thought she might be able to add something to. One project in particular interested her. Severus had been researching a potion to eliminate the after effects of the Cruciatus curse. He had made significant progress, but from the looks of his notes, the potion had several problems: it was unstable for any length of time, it had to be used immediately, and the side effects of the treatment were sometimes worse than the after effects of the curse itself. She knew first hand how devastating the after effects of the curse could be, and if she could spare anyone that pain, she would gladly do so. Even though the war was over, it was always good to be prepared. Surely, there would be other wars in the future. And there was a slim chance it could help Neville Longbottom's parents.  
  
She had several ideas as to how to work out the kinks in the potion and get past the drawbacks. This was just the sort of project she was looking for. As she pondered her own thoughts, she had to smile at the surly looking professor grumbling under his breath about students trying to be clever while his quill made steady marks across the rolls of parchment.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
When he met her gaze, she knew he didn't have any idea that he had been talking to himself.  
  
"I'd like to start working on this first, with your permission of course," she said, holding up the lab notebook entitled 'Cure for Ill Effects caused by the Cruciatus Curse.'"  
  
He quirked his eyebrows at her and set down his quill, folding his hands on top of his desk.  
  
"So you are accepting my offer?"  
  
"Which one?" she asked coyly.  
  
"Assistant Potions Master."  
  
Returning the pile of research notebooks to the bookshelf, she said, "Yes, that would be the one."  
  
"Are there any other offers outstanding?"  
  
"One can always hope," she said, smiling at the bemused expression on his face before scampering quickly from the room.  
  
Hermione spent the next day in the library researching various magical plants. She had also managed to catch up with Professor Sprout and procure space in Greenhouse Six to grow some exotic species of plants that she thought might help with her research.  
  
When she returned to Severus's rooms that evening, she found him laying on the couch in his study. The room was dark and he was rubbing his temples, his eyes firmly shut.  
  
Kneeling beside him, she whispered, "Did you take any headache potion?"  
  
He tried to nod but the motion caused him to wince in pain. "Yes," he murmured, "but obviously not enough."  
  
Hermione fetched some more of the headache potion and had him drink it before settling herself behind him on the couch. She eased his hands away from his face and took over massaging his temples, easing her fingers down along his sinuses and across his brow. She worked her fingers over his face, his head, and finally down his neck and shoulders. She smiled as he relaxed into her touch. Before long, his breathing became rhythmic.  
  
She lit a fire in the grate and covered him with a blanket before studying the sleeping man before her. She realized that he was rather attractive when he shed the scowl he normally wore on his face. Maybe he'd just never had much reason to be happy before. He had done so much for her; perhaps this was what she could do for him. She could help him find happiness.  
  
In the middle of the week, Dumbledore called a meeting to discuss Hermione's new role at Hogwarts. She, Severus, and Albus sat in the headmaster's office to discuss the details. She was offered a salary and her duties were discussed. Lastly came the topic of her living quarters.  
  
"We have a spare suite of rooms available near Gryffindor tower, if you would like to be near your former House," Albus offered.  
  
Hermione felt a twinge of sadness. She didn't want to be that far from Severus. He kept the nightmares at bay.  
  
"However, there are also quarters available in the dungeons, next to Professor Snape's quarters, if you would prefer."  
  
At that her head perked up. She looked between Severus and the headmaster. Severus's expression was blank but she detected a sparkle in the headmaster's eyes.  
  
Hermione chose her words carefully. "Considering that Professor Snape and I will be working so closely together, I think it would make the most sense for me to choose the quarters in the dungeons." Hermione looked to Severus for his approval and noticed the slight nod from him.  
  
"Very well," Albus said, "I'll have the house elves prepare your quarters immediately."  
  
When she and Severus were dismissed, she stopped him outside the headmaster's door. "I didn't know there were extra quarters in the dungeons. How come no one uses them?"  
  
"No one wants to live in the dungeons."  
  
"I do," she said.  
  
"Would you want to live in the dungeons if I was not there?"  
  
She blushed at his observation. "No, probably not."  
  
She paused a moment. "Severus?"  
  
He looked down at her and she realized for the first time how much taller he was than her.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
By the end of the week, her position as Assistant Potions Master was made official. Dumbledore welcomed her during a dinner in the Great Hall where she took her seat next to Professor Snape. She found it odd at first to be sitting at the Head Table instead of with the students. The one thing she didn't have to worry about was how she was received by her former professors, now colleagues. They were thrilled to have her join the staff of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall especially.  
  
When the weekend arrived, Severus showed Hermione to her new quarters. He was amazed at her reaction. He thought the quarters were quite small and dingy, but to her, they were heaven.  
  
"I've never had my own place before."  
  
He watched her catalogue every little detail in her environment; mentally ticking off the things she would do to make the space her own. He helped her unpack her larger belongings and then left her to get settled in.  
  
When he returned, she was stacking her books on the bookshelf in her study. He watched her for a while; he had not seen that spark in her eye for quite some time and it was refreshing. Her words echoed in his head, "I have a home, I have a purpose, and I have you, Severus." She was truly an amazing woman.  
  
He cleared his throat to get her attention. "This is for you," he said, holding out the plant.  
  
She gasped. "That isn't... it couldn't be..." she said, her eyes meeting his.  
  
He nodded. Her expression was priceless. She looked both surprised and immensely pleased by his small offering. He had never been one for giving gifts, but the way she was looking at him, he could easily understand the lure of it all. He had never known the thrill of making another happy until he met Hermione.  
  
"A Pimiento Encanto plant," she said, studying it closely.  
  
"Otherwise known as the enchanted pepper plant, yes."  
  
"But where did you find it? They are exceedingly rare and grow only in South America," she said in awe.  
  
"I have my ways," he said, feeling suddenly satisfied with the tremendous effort it took him to obtain the specimen.  
  
And then, much to his surprise, she set the plant down, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. He had expected her to be grateful, happy even, but he hadn't expected this reaction. He could get used to this gift-giving thing, he thought, as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.  
  
As quickly as it started, it ended. She pulled back, swept the plant in to her arms and with the jubilation of a small child, she asked, "Where should I put it?"  
  
Regaining his composure, he responded, "I suggest you create a microenvironment for it. It is used to warm temperatures and high humidity, two things that are not prevalent in the dungeons this time of year."  
  
He watched as a strange look crossed her face.  
  
"Should I try it?"  
  
When he nodded, she let go of the pot and rubbed the luscious green leaves between her thumb and index finger. In moments, the pot sprouted a multitude of tiny, ornate flowers of various colors.  
  
"Do you know what all the colors mean?" she asked.  
  
"It is different for each person, but in general, consuming a violet blossom assists with focus and concentration, light blue blossoms are for relaxation, white blossoms for peace and tranquility, pale yellow blossoms for acceptance, bright yellow for rejuvenation, orange for courage, red for passion, and so on. The shades differ for each person and their situation. The plant yields whatever it is the person who touches it needs most at that point in time. I believe you will just have to try the blossoms and find out."  
  
"Did you try it?"  
  
She must have noticed the sudden scowl on his face for she immediately asked, "What color were they?"  
  
He groaned, knowing he would not be able to get out of this one. "They were black, Hermione."  
  
"Black! What is black for?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "I touched the plant accidentally when I moved it, just after I brought you back from Gladwick. Black is for anger management."  
  
With that, she burst out laughing and wrapped her arms around him once again. "I do love you, Severus, you are one of a kind."  
  
That night, Hermione settled into her own bed for the first time. For the past week, she had shared Severus's bed and had become quite accustomed to waking up with him next to her each morning. After tossing and turning for a long while, she made her way to Severus's chambers and knocked on his door. He answered wordlessly, ushering her in as if he had been expecting her.  
  
"Remember when you said that it would be inappropriate for an unwed witch and wizard to share quarters during the semester?"  
  
"Yes," he answered in his silky voice.  
  
"Later you said that 'there were ways.' What did you mean by that?"  
  
He took her hand and led her to his study. "Do you have your wand with you?"  
  
She nodded and pulled it out to show him.  
  
She watched as a quick incantation revealed a shimmering, golden door in the wall of his study that hadn't been there before. The door, if opened, would join the study in Severus's quarters with the study in Hermione's adjacent quarters.  
  
"This door can only be used if you say the incantation as well. Then, we will have access to each other's chambers. But only if you so desire, Hermione. I do not wish to invade your privacy."  
  
"What about your privacy?" she inquired.  
  
"I have become quite fond of having you in my private chambers. I would not mind."  
  
"Me neither," she said, raising her wand to utter the incantation. Soon, the golden door became solid. She tried the handle and opened the door, taking a quick look around her study. "This will do," she said with a quick nod of her head. She hesitated in the doorway a moment. When she looked back at Severus he was looking at her with a bemused expression on his face. Finally, she dropped her shoulders and gave in.  
  
"If I can't sleep, would you mind if I joined you?"  
  
"Not at all, Hermione. Good night."  
  
She gave him a kiss on the cheek before retiring to her rooms, leaving the golden door open behind her. 


	8. Chapter 8

Resolution: Chapter 8 of 13  
  
Hermione worked hard all weekend and the following week to get her new rooms in order. She had exhausted herself quite thoroughly in the process. Still, every night before she went to bed, she made time to spend with Severus for a glass of wine. Together they would talk about their day, how his classes were, how her research was coming along, and anything else of interest. They had the most interesting conversations, she thought, and looked forward to his company each evening.  
  
The following weekend, Hermione spent a mostly splendid day with Minerva McGonagall shopping in Diagon Alley. Hermione picked up a few things to add finishing touches to her rooms while Minerva shopped for a birthday gift for her sister. Flourish and Blotts was their last stop before leaving for the day. Hermione waded through the books in the Botany section, searching for a comprehensive reference guide on magical plants.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Malfoy whore."  
  
Hermione froze, the book in her hands dropping to the floor. There was no mistaking that voice: Rowland Deveron. She grabbed her wand and spun around only to have it knocked out of her hand. Rowland put his own wand in the hollow of her neck and backed her against the wall. She swallowed against the intense hatred in his gaze, bile rising in her throat at the way he looked her up and down.  
  
"Where's your protector now? Snape isn't here; I've been watching you all day. Strutting around like you own this place while I've become the outcast of the Wizarding world. Thanks to you, not only was I kicked out of Gladwick, but I also can't seem to find a job or get admission to any other univiersities."  
  
In the back of her mind she thought she would have enjoyed knowing all of this if he didn't have her pinned against the wall. Instead, fear was battling against outrage inside of her. She had to turn the tables on him and fast.  
  
"My friends and I have a little surprise for you, whore. Soon, no one will think of you as the Malfoy whore. You'll be the Deveron whore, like you should have been so long ago. I was trying to take it easy on you last time. No more."  
  
She saw four of his friends converge on the place where they stood, her wand at her feet. He had noticed the direction of her gaze and laughed. He reached for her wrist, needing the physical contact to Apparate them away from the bookstore. Knowing this would be her last chance, she twisted her upper body hard, shouldering him in the chest and throwing him off balance before kicking him as hard she could in the kneecap. He raised his wand, but she was too quick for him; she Stupefied him before he had a chance to curse her. When she looked up, Minerva had cast binding spells on his four friends and was rushing to her side. Hermione collapsed against her, shaking at what had almost happened. Soon, the owners of Flourish and Blotts were there, asking questions, demanding answers. Minerva sat Hermione down on a plush chair and explained everything, much to Hermione's relief. The owners apologized to Hermione and assured her that the Ministry would take care of these scoundrels and that they would never bother her again. She could only hope.  
  
When they returned to Hogwarts, Hermione rushed to Severus's rooms, but he wasn't there. She found him in the Potions classroom in a particularly foul mood. He was violently stirring the bubbling cauldron while saying something about stupid students who didn't deserved to be allowed to set foot in Hogwarts. When she asked what he was working on, he snapped at her, not even bothering to look up. She excused herself then and locked herself in her rooms. The tears she forbade herself from crying in front of Minerva streamed down her face; tears of fear from her altercation with Rowland, but more so, tears of rejection from the one person she was counting on listening to her. It was unfair of her to expect him to be everything to her, but right now, it didn't make her feel any better. Realizing she was wallowing in self-pity, she decided that a soothing bath might make her feel better.  
  
Without thinking about what she was doing, she undressed in front of the mirror, something she never did. When she looked up, she froze. She stood perfectly still as the scars on her body stood out in stark relief against her pale skin. She closed her eyes against the images fighting their way to the forefront of her mind. Images of Lucius and the dagger, images of the knife cutting her skin, images of blood rising to the surface. The images came to her at other times as well, but not this strong. She was usually able to push them back. But after all that had happened today, she was at their mercy. She could feel the pain as if he were dragging the knife over her at that very moment. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sunk to the floor, willing the memories to stop.  
  
"Foolish idiots! Wasting my weekend brewing potions because some imbecile thought it would be funny to add rabbit fur to lockweed." Severus rambled on and on. He had handed out more detentions in the last week than he had throughout his entire tenure at Hogwarts. And now he was stuck rebrewing potions so that the students could continue working on their assignments that some fifth years had messed up, trying to be funny. Not only was he angry at his students, he was angry at himself for losing his temper with Hermione. She didn't deserve it. She had done nothing wrong. Her only offense was asking him what he was working on and he had practically bit her head off. He added the final ingredient and stirred. As soon as he was finished, he would go find her and make it up to her. She would probably be angry with him and she would have every right to be.  
  
Shaking his head at his own behavior, he stirred the potion one last time. Studying its brown, bubbling texture, he knew he had gotten it right. Amazing considering the foul mood he was in. He half expected to have to start over. He raised the cauldron with his wand to pour the contents into glass vials when he heard the ear-piercing scream. The cauldron and glass vials fell back to the lab bench, glass shattering and potion spilling all over the floor. Without a second thought he ran from the classroom. There was no doubting that scream.  
  
She had warded the golden door between their quarters. What the hell was that about? Cursing, he rushed to break through the wards. He raced through her quarters, finding her at last huddled naked in her bathroom, the tub near overflowing. He grabbed her bathrobe and covered her before pulling her into his arms in an attempt to comfort her.  
  
"Don't," she cried, flinching at his touch.  
  
He immediately let go, sitting back on his haunches to try and decipher what was going on.  
  
"Hermione, what happened?"  
  
She wouldn't look at him. Dammit! "Hermione, I shouldn't have snapped at you before. It had nothing to do with you."  
  
Still she shrank away from him. His heart was breaking just watching her. He longed to reach out to her but she was obviously pulling away from him.  
  
"Please, talk to me."  
  
Instead, tears poured from her eyes.  
  
"Don't look at me," she finally said.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I hate how I look. I hate it. I hate it."  
  
He was now thoroughly confused. Was her terror-filled scream simply a feminine overreaction? And if so, he had ruined a perfectly good potion and a days worth of work to come to her aid.  
  
"I don't understand," he finally said, keeping the exasperation out of his voice.  
  
She met his eyes only briefly. "He cut me with a knife. I can't stand to look in the mirror. All I see are the scars and him. I see his face. I see what he's doing to me. He made me watch. I feel the knife cutting my skin. I can't stop it. I can't make it stop. I can't make it go away."  
  
He sat there stunned for a moment. This was not what he had expected. What brought this on? Without taking the time to decide if what he was doing would help the situation or make it worse, he quickly stripped out of his robe and shirt, leaving his chest and back bare.  
  
"Look at me," he commanded.  
  
She looked at him through blurry eyes and he gave her a second to focus. Slowly, he lifted his arms over his head and turned around in a circle. When he was facing her again, her eyes were wide. He knelt down in front of her as she reached out and very gently traced a ragged scar across his chest.  
  
"You are not the only one with scars, Hermione. I have had more time to get used to mine, but that does not necessarily make it any easier. Each scar has a story and I am hard pressed not to be reminded of those stories each time I look in the mirror."  
  
She studied his scar-riddled body a little longer before falling into his open arms.  
  
"What brought this on?"  
  
"I ran into Rowland in Diagon Alley."  
  
As he listened to her words, he clenched his fists in anger. He wanted nothing more in life than to protect her, and he had failed once again.  
  
Seeming to sense his change in mood, she looked up at him and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. "Perhaps you need some of those black blossoms from the Pimiento Encanto plant."  
  
She laughed at the sour look that brought to his face.  
  
He held her that night while she slept to keep her nightmares at bay. She had endured so much, and yet there were still people out there like Rowland Deveron who fed on innocents. Rowland would have made a perfect Death Eater, Severus thought wryly. Shaking his head, he refocused his thoughts. There was one sure way he could protect her. It was an ancient ritual that he had read about years ago before the Dark Lord had risen to power. He had catalogued it then, but hadn't thought much about it since. It, and all the other notions of a normal life, had been cast aside. He was not worthy of her, he thought as he stroked her brown hair. But worthy or not, he would do what he could to protect her. And, if she would allow it, he would do much more than protect her; he would love her. 


	9. Chapter 9

Resolution: Chapter 9 of 13  
  
As spring approached, Hermione had made remarkable progress on the potion for treating the after effects of the Cruciatus curse. She had solved the problem of both its instability and its need to be used immediately by combining garlic, milk thistle, and taro root. The combination served to retain the potion's potency while acting as a preservative. She had reduced or eliminated most of the more severe side effects, but had a couple more ideas she wanted to try before claiming success.  
  
Severus had been very supportive of her efforts and not at all offended by the progress she had made. Their evening discussions over wine had generated a great many ideas, which she was more than happy to try. Her latest attempt was currently brewing overnight. By morning, she would know if the side effect of internal bleeding had been curbed or not. If so, that left only the nausea, headaches, and muscle tremors to deal with, none of which were life threatening. She had already conquered the side effect of blurred vision by adding carrot seeds.  
  
She knew she was being overzealous, but she truly hoped to master the potion before the spring break, which was only three weeks away. That would leave her the rest of the semester and the summer to write up their research, submit it for publication, and study ways to produce the potion in mass quantities. If she could accomplish all of that, she could return to school in the fall with an already completed research project that would surely rival any research project she would be assigned at university. She knew she would never go back to Gladwick, even though the president had sent her a personal letter of apology; she would find some other place where she could advance her studies in peace.  
  
Hermione was waiting for Professor Snape when his fourth year Potions class let out. Her expression was unusually blank. Normally, he could read her thoughts from a mile away, but not today. When the students had cleared out of the dungeons, she closed the door behind them and locked and warded it. Severus watched her; curious as to what was going on.  
  
He should have known better than to be surprised. In the blink of an eye, she had rushed him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him fervently. She pulled back just as suddenly as she'd jumped into his arms. "It works, Severus, I did it! We did it!"  
  
"What did we do?"  
  
"The potion! It works! The side effects are gone, it has a shelf life of at least two years, and it needs to be administered within the first 72 hours for maximum effect, but it can be administered anytime within the first two weeks and still be helpful."  
  
He listened for the next few minutes as she spoke eagerly of her accomplishments. Unfortunately, he had to watch the clock as well. He pulled her to him and kissed her softly while inhaling her sweet scent before setting her back away from him.  
  
"How about we have dinner to celebrate your accomplishments this evening?" He couldn't help but smile back at the young woman who was beaming up at him. Hermione Granger was back.  
  
He quickly rearranged his face into a scowl. "Miss Granger, I must inform you that my next class of students is waiting for admittance. You may keep me no longer."  
  
She laughed, planting a quick kiss on his lips before heading for the door. Turning around, she too replaced her smile with something akin to a frown. "Yes, of course, Professor."  
  
Hermione was not in her rooms when he returned that evening. That was odd. She was not one to miss appointments without leaving a note. Still, he was not incredibly worried as she had been in such a good mood that afternoon. Perhaps she was sharing the news with others. After wandering the castle for nearly an hour, though, he was starting to worry. He returned to the dungeons and checked them thoroughly one last time. The only thing that seemed out of order was a torn up piece of parchment that lay spread across her study floor. He bent to examine the pieces. It looked to him as if it was once a wedding invitation, but he couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, he gathered that it must have upset her. There was one place he hadn't checked: the towers. The North tower was the closest, and the place she had gone the last time she was upset. That thought did little to ease his mind. The thought of losing her now was more than he could bear. As he climbed the spiral staircase, all he could hear was the howling of the wind. He let out a sigh of relief when he reached the landing. She was looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts, her arms wrapped around herself presumably to ward off the chill in the air. Silently, he walked up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him.  
  
"It's captivating, isn't it?" he said of the approaching sunset.  
  
Her nod against his chest was her only answer.  
  
"Want to talk about it?"  
  
He felt her stiffen against him. "Severus, do you love me?"  
  
"You know that I do."  
  
"Then what are you waiting for?"  
  
His mind turned over in slow circles. What on earth was she talking about? He'd had the beginnings of a headache before he found her, and he was suddenly certain it would be getting much worse. What was it about women that they couldn't just say what was on their mind?  
  
He was still pondering her question when she added, "The enchanted flowers were blazing orange today. I ate some. They were for courage."  
  
"You have never been lacking in courage, Hermione," he murmured in her ear.  
  
"Maybe you should eat some then."  
  
He was taken aback by her words. He spun her around in his arms and looked her straight in the eyes. "Tell me what you are getting at, woman."  
  
"Are you ever going to ask me to marry you?"  
  
"Marry you?" He practically yelled the words at her. He hadn't meant to. He was just so surprised by her train of thought. He instantly regretted his response when he saw the tears well up in her eyes.  
  
She pulled away from him, turning her gaze back to the Hogwarts grounds. "Never mind. It was foolish of me to think that you would actually want to marry me."  
  
He almost laughed but restrained himself at the last moment, afraid to make the situation any worse. He walked to her side, knelt down before her, and took her hands in his. "You are an amazing witch. Forgive me for thinking you would never want an old wizard like me. In trying to give you your freedom, it seems I have given you the wrong impression." He paused then and brought her hands to his lips, kissing them both in turn. "Hermione Granger, if you would have me, I would be more than honored to have you as my wife."  
  
Before she had clung to him out of desperation; now she clung to him out of hope and sheer happiness. "I would be honored to be your wife, Severus."  
  
After a celebratory dinner dedicated both to her successfully completing the potion to treat the after effects of the Cruciatus curse as well as their engagement, Hermione headed to the Burrow for the week. The entire Weasley family had gathered, so she decided to wait to share her good news. By mid-week, she found herself having lunch with only Molly, Ginny, Ron, and Harry. Everyone had already commented how much better they thought she was doing and how she seemed more relaxed and at ease. She had thanked them while managing to keep her secret.  
  
When everyone had finished eating the lunch Molly had prepared, Hermione cleared her throat.  
  
"Everyone, I have an announcement. Severus and I are engaged."  
  
Stunned silence followed her proclamation. Harry was the first to recover, patting her on the shoulder and congratulating her. Molly was next, giving her a hug. Ginny also gave her approval. Ron, on the other hand, hung back, his face turning redder by the second.  
  
"You're marrying that git? Are you crazy? Why on earth would you marry him of all people?" Ron paused and then turned to Harry. "Harry, help me out here."  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Who am I to stand in the way of love?"  
  
"Love!" Ron exclaimed. "What does this have to do with love? He doesn't love her, and she can't possibly love him." Ron looked frantically around the table for support, but none was forthcoming.  
  
Harry interjected. "Ron, Snape does love her, that much I know. Hermione can speak for herself."  
  
Ron looked incredulous.  
  
"Ron, calm down," Hermione implored. "I do love him. And he's different when we're alone," she said, a dreamy quality to her voice.  
  
At that, Ron clutched his stomach. "You let him do that to you? Oh, I think I'm going to be sick."  
  
"RONALD WEASLEY!" Molly exclaimed.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. We've only kissed, we haven't..." Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh my God."  
  
"What is it, dear?" Molly said, rushing to her side.  
  
Hermione had paled considerably. "Oh no. I hadn't thought about that, I couldn't possibly, not in a month, oh my God, thirty days, that's just not long enough, I couldn't, I can't..."  
  
Molly quickly shooed everyone out of the kitchen. She put her arm around Hermione and sat down beside her. "Are you worried about the consummation clause?"  
  
Hermione nodded, tears suddenly springing to her eyes. "I forgot all about that. I can't possibly marry him. I can't consummate the marriage. Not in thirty days. Not ever."  
  
"Have you talked to him about this?"  
  
"No, not really. I mean, we've talked about it in general terms. I said that I didn't think I would ever be able to have sex again but he said that with the right man anything was possible. And he said that the right man would be willing to wait until I was ready. But the law is the law." She buried her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?"  
  
"Well, you'll just have to talk to him. If he truly loves you, dear, he'll understand. You'll work something out."  
  
"I never thought it would come to this," Hermione bemoaned.  
  
"I suggest you send him an owl right away. The sooner you get this worked out, the sooner you'll feel better. There's no use stewing over it now, dear. It will all work out in the end." 


	10. Chapter 10

Resolution: Chapter 10 of 13  
  
Severus was surprised to see the owl, and even more surprised to see Hermione's urgent request. He hadn't been expecting her back until the following week. She was supposed to be taking some time off and enjoying herself at the Burrow. Not that he minded seeing her mid-week. He had become accustomed to having her around and found he missed her when she was away.  
  
She arrived at his quarters in time for lunch. He was in his study, recording the final marks of an essay he had assigned to his third year potions students. "Having second thoughts already?" he teased without looking up.  
  
When she didn't respond, he felt his stomach clench. The look on her face told him he had been right. He swallowed hard and shook his head. She deserved better than him and she had finally realized it. Looking back at her, he saw the fear in her eyes. Was she afraid he'd be angry that she had changed her mind? It didn't matter; one look into those huge brown puppy dog eyes and he couldn't hold a grudge if his life depended on it.  
  
Her tears had already started to fall as he crossed the room towards her.  
  
"I can't do this, Severus. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."  
  
"Why are you sorry?" he asked, brushing a stray curl from her face.  
  
"I never thought... I forgot all about it, really. It would never work. I couldn't possibly meet the terms of the contract. I wish I could. I'm sorry."  
  
He put his hands on her shoulders. "What are you talking about, Hermione? What terms of the contract?"  
  
"The thirty day consummation clause," she choked out.  
  
"Is that what you're worried about?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
Relief flooded through him as he pulled her against him, holding her tight. He wanted to laugh. "What if I told you I could get rid of that clause all together? Then would you marry me?"  
  
"In a heartbeat," she said, holding on to him as if his words could make all of her worries go away. "But it would be unfair of me to ask that of you. And I..."  
  
When she didn't continue, Severus asked, "And you what?"  
  
"Do you want children? Because I don't even know if I can have any and that's rather selfish of me too, to ask you to sacrifice your dreams for me."  
  
"Always the thoughtful one," he said, kissing her the top of her head and leading her to the couch. "Now, one thing at a time. I am not worried about the consummation clause. Under the circumstances, I'm sure we can work something out with the Ministry. As for your childbearing capabilities, I believe Poppy said that you may or may not be able to have children. Hermione, no witch knows for certain if she'll be able to bear children. Lastly, as for what I want, I want you to be happy. I could be happy with or without children. Children are not a requirement."  
  
"But you wouldn't be opposed to having them?"  
  
"No, I would not."  
  
"And you'll love me no matter what?"  
  
"No matter what, Hermione, I will always love you."  
  
Severus thought the matter had been laid to rest. They spent the rest of the day together enjoying each other's company. As they lay in bed that evening staring at the ceiling Hermione had enchanted to look like the evening sky, Hermione asked the question that must have been bothering her all day.  
  
"What if I can't ever have sex, Severus? Then what? The Ministry won't allow a union that has no chance of ever being consummated."  
  
"Hermione, I am not interested in having sex with you. I want to make love to you. No one has ever made love to you before."  
  
"I don't even know what making love is," she replied in a defeated voice.  
  
"We make love everyday, when we share breakfast together, when you rub my back, when I kiss you goodnight, when we sleep in each other's arms. Making love is so much more than the act of consummation. That is what I want to share with you."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes. "I want to believe I could make love to you, I really do. But I'm scared, Severus."  
  
"Tell me what you're afraid of."  
  
"It'll hurt too much. I don't ever want to go through that pain again."  
  
"Making love should never hurt, Hermione."  
  
After a moment, she added, "And it'll bring back the memories. It'll bring back the nightmares. I'm afraid I won't be able to separate you from Lucius. What if I can't?"  
  
"You will be able to, I assure you. What we share will be nothing like what happened to you in the past."  
  
She seemed to consider his words for a long while. "Severus?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Will you tell me how a man makes love to a woman? Maybe if I knew, maybe it wouldn't seem so scary."  
  
Severus's mouth went dry. "What would you like to know?"  
  
She took a deep breath and he saw the courage it took for her to ask for what she thought she needed. "Everything. Tell me everything. Tell me what the man does to the woman and what the woman does to the man. Tell me how they respond to each other. Maybe then I would believe you that it doesn't have to be painful. Maybe then I would believe that I could do that someday."  
  
He saw the timidity in her eyes. She desperately wanted to believe she could be one of those women who could be made love to, who could make love to a man in return. Trying to buy himself some time, he said, "There are many different ways to make love."  
  
"Then tell me how you envision making love to me."  
  
He felt as if she had just punched him in the gut and knocked the wind out of him. She wanted to hear his fantasy. Lord, what had he gotten himself into? The mere thought of what he wanted to do her made his heart rate increase and his body respond in kind. He took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his head, knowing that if he touched her, he would surely lose it.  
  
He cleared his throat, desperate to regain his composure. He would have to choose his words very carefully. He wanted her to get the sense that the woman was in complete control. He never wanted her to feel forced into anything with him.  
  
He closed his eyes and pictured them together, as they were now, both laying on their backs, fully clothed, looking at the enchanted ceiling. It could start like this. It could start any number of ways.  
  
"The man and woman spend several weeks courting each other. It's like a dance. They both give and take, getting to know each other on a more personal level. They have dinner together, they take walks together, they talk about everything under the sun. They laugh together. They find themselves wanting to spend more and more time with one another. They miss each other when they are apart."  
  
"Soon, they find comfort in each other's touch. At first, it's just a simple gesture; brushing by one another when they walk past each other, holding hands, embracing. Eventually, they kiss. At first, it's a tentative kiss, both unsure of each other's reactions. But soon the kisses turn more passionate, filled with love and a longing to be together. Over time, they both decide that they want to take that next step, they want to be even closer, they want to be intimate. That intimacy too is a dance, each one giving, each one taking, both finding pleasure in one another."  
  
He took a deep breath, considering how he was going to do this. "Perhaps it begins with a kiss. They are standing together, looking into each other's eyes, and he kisses her. Just a graze of the lips at first, but soon she wraps her arms around his neck, drawing him nearer. He runs his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer as their tongues meet. The sensation of kissing alone sends warmth throughout their bodies and makes them long to be even closer, to touch even more." He tried to clear the image of her soft, ready lips from his mind. How easy it would be to begin that way with her. Even with his eyes closed he could picture her perfectly.  
  
He had to take this slow, he knew, but in his mind, he was racing forward at neck breaking speed towards the grand finale. Steadying his resolve, he continued. "Her hand traces his cheek, his neck, his collar bone. She trails her hands down his chest, feeling the cotton fabric sliding under her fingers. He trembles under her touch, longing to feel her skin against his." He paused momentarily; she was laying perfectly still, her eyes closed, an expression of concentration on her face.  
  
Closing his eyes again, he continued. "He kisses the corner of her mouth then, her cheek, her earlobe, her neck. His only intention to make her feel as much pleasure as her touch brings him. He kisses his way down to the vee of her shirt, slowly unbuttoning it as he goes, tasting each new sliver of flesh that is revealed to him. As her shirt falls away, he slides his hands up to caress the swell of her flesh through her bra. A sigh of pleasure escapes her lips as she runs her fingers along his back, lost in his touch. As he eases the straps off her shoulders, he revels in the sight of her beautiful breasts. His finger works their way back down to their tender flesh, caressing her soft skin into hard peaks. Soon, his mouth replaces his fingers as he eases her ready flesh into his mouth. Gently, he licks and suckles her nipple, circling it with his tongue, feeling the way it slides easily around his mouth, getting harder by the second. She shudders under his ministrations, feeling the warmth of his mouth sending jolts of wetness to other parts of her body. Eventually, he lets go to give the other nipple equal attention, amazed at the way her body responds to his, making him desire her even more." He could picture her as the fantasy played out in his mind; Hermione's beautiful body splayed beneath him, eager, ready, waiting. He could feel himself getting more and more aroused by the images his words created, images he had seen in his mind's eye more times than he could count.  
  
"Gradually, he works his way down to her stomach, kissing the soft flesh there, his hands sliding down her sides and coming to rest on the curve of her hips. He works the button and zipper of her jeans free, pulling them from her only when she raises her hips in invitation. Then he kisses his way down her leg to her knee before placing kisses on her inner thigh, working his way back up as his fingers lead the way with feather-light touches. She opens her legs to him in anticipation, letting him feel the heat radiating off of her. He kisses her through her underwear, her hips lifting to welcome him. She's very wet and very hot." Just the thought of kissing her there was turning him on beyond belief. His erection was throbbing painfully, begging for release.  
  
His voice raspy, his fingers clenched tightly together, he continued. "With her permission, he removes her panties, trailing kisses along her tender flesh. He tastes her wondrous juices as he licks inside of her, his tongue soft and warm and wet." He sensed the moment her breathing changed, sending him into a frenzy of desire. His voice and breathing were both ragged as the images flashed through his mind. "He licks her folds as well, up to her rosy bud which is ever so inviting. And then, he sucks her into his mouth, laving and caressing the flesh, bringing her to a feverish point. She rocks against him, lost in the incredible sensations enervating her body, her fingers entangled in his hair, urging him not to stop." He felt the bed shift slightly under the unconscious sway of her hips, the undeniable yearning his words brought forth. He clasped his fingers tighter, fighting the urge to do with his hands what he was saying with his mouth. "Soon, he feels her reaching the height of sensation, her body shaking in anticipation and pure ecstasy as she tumbles over the edge in a rush of feeling, her orgasm sending waves of delight throughout her entire body."  
  
He looked at her then, saw the flush on her cheeks, the moisture on her lips. He yearned to kiss her, to take her, to make her his. He closed his eyes and groaned inwardly at the thought.  
  
The sound of her voice brought him back to reality.  
  
"Does he like it as well? Kissing her there, I mean?"  
  
"Oh gods, yes. He loves it. He can't get enough of her. She tastes wonderful."  
  
"And then what?"  
  
He took a deep breath, wondering how on earth he was going to get through this without laying a hand on her. "And then she lays him on his back and takes his shirt off. She runs her hands along his chest, teasing his nipples into hard points that send desire spiraling through his body. She trails her fingers to his stomach, leaving soft kisses in their wake. He trembles under her touch as she trails her fingers even lower, teasing him every so slightly. When he's sure he's going to burst with desire, she runs her fingers along the length of his arousal concealed only by the fabric of his pants," just as surely as his was now, "before slipping the rest of his clothes off of him." He shifted, hoping to ease the intense ache in his groin. "Slowly, she explores the contours of his naked body with the soft touch of her fingers. She traces his hard shaft with reverence while she cups his testicles with the other hand, gently massaging them. He moans with longing and arches into her touch. Soon, it's not just her hand that's touching him, but her mouth, as she lays soft kisses along his flesh. And then, she takes him inside of her mouth, all of him." It took all of his self control not to strain against her imagined touch, not to lift his hips off the bed in search of her warm wetness, not to give into the rhythm his body so desperately longed for. "Holding the base of him with one hand, she slides him in and out, allowing his reaction to set the pace." Remembering her question from before, he added, "She loves the feel of him in her mouth, loves to know how much her touch pleases him. Soon, he is shaking with need and gently pushes her away, knowing he won't be able to last much longer if she keeps it up." He was sure he would orgasm right then and there if he didn't remain perfectly still. He was only vaguely aware of her laying next him. He was so caught up in her imagined ministrations he was having a difficult time remembering that he needed to handle this with extra care. He longed to jump on top of her and plunge deep inside, making love to her hard and fast, desire meeting desire, her nails digging into his skin. That would happen someday, he was sure, but not now.  
  
Reining in his fragile control, he strove to give her what she needed. He took a long, deep breath before continuing. "And then, she slips on top of him, her wet folds caressing his hard flesh and lubricating it as she slides back and forth across the length of him. The rubbing motion drives her ever closer to the edge as her fingers dance across his chest." His breath was coming in short, raspy waves as he imagined her on top of him, riding him, her fingers caressing his nipples, begging him to take her. "When she's ready, she takes his manhood in her hand and slowly guides it to her opening, teasing him with her exquisite wetness. He can feel how hot and ready she is and he longs to be deep inside of her, but he doesn't rush her. When she is ready, she eases him inside, reveling in the feeling of him filling her completely, as he revels in the feeling of her holding him tightly, her walls caressing him and drawing him in deeper." He had lost himself to his fantasy, his hands firmly clasped behind his head to keep him from touching her. Unconsciously, he rocked into the image of her, his erection straining restlessly for release.  
  
"Hermione!" he gasped, his eyes flying open. His heart raced wildly as her fingers slid over his arousal. Merlin, she felt good. He dug his fingernails into his opposing knuckles.  
  
"And then what?" she asked, breathless, imploring him to continue as she stroked his erection through his pants.  
  
"And then... and then... Oh gods, Hermione!" He was no longer arching into air; she had settled herself on top of him. He could feel her heat and wetness through the thin layers of cotton that separated them.  
  
"And then, he is all of the way inside her, her walls squeezing him tightly as she rocks against him."  
  
His words set her in motion. She rocked back and forth; her actions bringing him ever closer to the release he yearned for.  
  
"Where are his hands?" she asked, her voice husky with desire.  
  
His hands, his hands. They are massaging her breasts, grasping them, bringing them to his mouth. "They are on her hips," he managed to croak out.  
  
She reached for his wrists and pulled his arms down, gliding her fingers along his smooth skin while placing his hands on her hips.  
  
"And where are her hands?"  
  
"On his chest," he barely rasped out as she slid her hand under his shirt and found his nipples, rolling them in her fingers as he moaned at her touch.  
  
"And then what?" she asked.  
  
His mind was leaving him. How on earth could she expect him to continue? His hands were on her hips, guiding her rocking motions to meet his needs. He couldn't hold back. The feel of her was exquisite. "Hermione," he whispered, need clear in his voice.  
  
"What happens next?" she whispered.  
  
Focusing his concentration on her, he began again. "And then they move together as one, lost in each other's rhythm." His words were no longer merely thoughts, but actions as they rocked against each other, seeking completion in one another. He could feel her getting closer, her movements were more erratic, her breath quick and uneven. "And then, he feels her walls closing in around him, squeezing him and releasing him, drawing him ever nearer." He paused, struggling to maintain his hold on reality. "Suddenly, her body begins to shudder as her orgasm takes over."  
  
"Oh God, Severus, oh God, oh God, oh God!"  
  
He held her hips tight to keep her in contact with him. "He feels her body letting go and he can't hold on much longer."  
  
"Severus!" she screamed, her whole body quaking against his.  
  
And in that instant, he lost it, groaning out his own release against her willing flesh, his hands still on her hips, her quaking body draining the last of his fluids from him. He pulled her shaking body against his trembling one. He had never experienced anything so intense in all his life.  
  
Long moments passed as they lay against each other, lost in each other's embrace.  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" he managed to say between labored breaths.  
  
When she didn't answer, he lifted her face to meet his eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Oh, God, Hermione. Did I hurt you? Please talk to me."  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
And so he did. He kissed her long and lavishly, slowly, passionately. He kissed her until they both were too exhausted to think anymore. When he laid her back on the bed, her tears were gone.  
  
"I never knew." Her voice was meek and humble. "I never knew making love could be like that, so gentle, so loving, so wonderful." In a much quieter voice, she added. "I never knew I could have an orgasm."  
  
He wanted to tell her that she could have several, one right after the other, but now was not the time. Instead, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again. 


	11. Chapter 11

Resolution: Chapter 11 of 13  
  
Hermione returned to the Burrow the next day, feeling tremendously better about the relationship between herself and Severus. Someday, she thought, she would be able to consummate their marriage. It would take time, but it didn't seem hopeless anymore.  
  
Later that day, she received an owl from Severus. He had gone to visit the Ministry to apply for their marriage license. He had also gotten a commitment from them that the one month consummation clause would be extended to one year, with the possibility of six month extensions as needed.  
  
With her mind at ease, she began planning the wedding almost immediately. Molly and Ginny were excited to help and told her all about weddings in the Wizarding world. Her only experience had been Muggle weddings. She was looking forward to the enchanted side of things and was eager to learn all she could.  
  
When she returned to Hogwarts, she had tried to involve Severus in the planning. He had groaned at her repeated attempts, citing that the details should be left to the women who cared about such nonsensical things. As far as he was concerned, she would be the most beautiful bride in the world regardless of what she did and his only concern was the nuptial vows; everything else was icing on the cake for her. He told her she could have whatever she wanted so long as she didn't make him suffer through the details of arranging it. In the end, she enlisted Molly and Ginny Weasley and Minerva McGonagall to help work out the details.  
  
Aside from planning the wedding, she was writing up her and Severus's combined research on treating the after effects of the Cruciatus curse to submit to various Wizarding medical and scientific journals. She had also applied to begin studying at Worcester Witches' College in Wales for the fall semester. Severus had assured her repeatedly that she would be accepted and that she had nothing to worry about. Still, until she received the owl, nothing would calm her in that regard. She had decided that she wanted to study Magical Plants, and Botany was one of Worcester's specialties. Ginny had assured her that the atmosphere was entirely different than Gladwick and that Hermione would enjoy it immensely. Ginny had received a full scholarship from St. Mungo's and was studying to be a Healer, something that suited her perfectly in Hermione's opinion.  
  
The owl from Worcester arrived on a Saturday morning. Hermione was lying on the floor in the study, pouring over color and material swatches for the wedding while Severus periodically made sarcastic remarks to get a reaction from her. He had become quite fond of teasing her; she had certainly dished out her fair share as well.  
  
He was surprised she hadn't noticed the owl outside the window. He let it in and detached the parchment, knowing Hermione's nerves had been on edge ever since she had sent in her college application. Parchment in hand, he walked over to Hermione and knelt down beside her, the wax seal of Worcester Witches' College clearly in her line of view.  
  
She sat up quickly, tearing open the parchment and scanning its contents. "I've been accepted!"  
  
"Hermione, you are the brightest witch in the United Kingdom. Did you really have any doubts?"  
  
Hermione smiled at her soon-to-be husband. "As a matter of fact, I did."  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and laughed, pulling her into an embrace.  
  
Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms. He loosened his grip on her, sensing that something was bothering her.  
  
"Where will I live?" she asked.  
  
He decided right then and there that he had no hope of ever understanding how the woman's mind worked. "Here, of course. Where else?"  
  
"Can I do that? I mean, most students live on campus."  
  
"You're not most students, Hermione. Soon you will be Mrs. Snape, and as such, you will have the privilege of living with your husband if you so desire. Of course, you could live in the dorms if you prefer."  
  
At that, she laughed. "No thank you, I intend to stay right here with you."  
  
He caught the gleam in her eyes; he loved when she was happy. He knew, though, that it would be short-lived. Her research and the wedding had kept her busy, but he still sensed she wasn't quite herself. She had gained back her confidence with regard to her abilities, but her inner sense of self still seemed to be a bit off. He had worked hard to reassure her that in time she would feel whole again, but he wasn't sure she believed him. There was one more thing he could offer her, and as the wedding drew nearer, he knew he couldn't put it off for much longer.  
  
As he had expected, the happiness over her acceptance was fleeting. Soon, she had that nervous look on her face as she twirled her hair in her fingers, thinking something over.  
  
"Severus? I didn't have such a good experience at Gladwick, as you know, and I'm a little worried about how people will react to me at Worcester. I know it's an all witches' college, and I think that will be much better, plus I'll be married, but still..."  
  
Ah, the perfect opening. "Perhaps there is something I can offer you that would put your mind at ease."  
  
"What's that?" she asked.  
  
He took in her trusting brown eyes and knew he'd never had any chance of resisting her. "There is an ancient ritual called The Linking of the Rings. It is believed that the ritual originated as a way for husbands and wives to ensure their faithfulness to one another, for if they strayed, the other would know immediately. At the time, land and other worldly goods were at stake, and evidence of infidelity could be used as grounds to end a marriage. The guilty witch or wizard would lose everything. Since then, it has been used for a variety of other purposes; most notably, mother's seeking to protect their young children. However, I have done some research, and I believe we could use it to link to one another's emotional states such that if either one of us encountered some dire situation, the other would be able to feel it and would be led to their location to offer assistance. In other words, Hermione, if you ever felt threatened or afraid, I would know it and I could Apparate to your side immediately, wherever you were. The same would hold true if the situation were reversed." Although Severus did not think that precaution was necessary, he did think Hermione would find it unfair or downright disagree if the link was not performed in both directions. "If you are interested, the ritual could be performed during the marriage ceremony, and as long as we both wear our wedding rings, we would be able to feel each other's emotions if they were intense enough."  
  
"So you would know what I was feeling at all times?"  
  
"I would only be able to sense your feelings if they were particularly intense."  
  
"Like if I was in trouble."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
When she didn't respond, he asked, "What is it?"  
  
She sighed. "I was just wishing that this link would have been in place before... before Lucius abducted me. Then someone would have known that I wasn't really dead."  
  
"And Rowland wouldn't have been able to hurt you either," Severus added, pulling Hermione back into his arms. "I promise you Hermione, I will do everything in my power to never let anyone hurt you again."  
  
He felt her arms encircle him tightly as she held onto him. "Yes, Severus, let's do it." Looking into his eyes, she smiled. "I will consider this your contribution to the wedding."  
  
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her, her lips meshing eagerly with his. 


	12. Chapter 12

Resolution: Chapter 12 of 13  
  
They were married in July in a traditional Wizarding ceremony. It had been a perfect day, with the weather outshined only by the beauty of his bride: Hermione Snape. She had taken his name. The Linking of the Rings ritual was performed, and as soon as it was complete, Severus felt her overwhelming happiness. It was strange feeling someone else so clearly, but he did not regret it. Since that day, they had worked on honing their skills. While less strong emotions could still be sensed, they were vague at most.  
  
One thing he hadn't anticipated was the transference of strong physical sensations. One evening, he was in his lab working on a particularly volatile and temperamental potion. Without warning, the potion boiled over, badly burning one of his hands. Before he even had time to think, Hermione was at his side, gasping in horror at the sight of his oozing flesh.  
  
He was grasping the wrist of his injured hand, while she frantically uttered some healing charms before rushing him off to Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"How did you know?" he asked as she led him through the winding corridors towards the Infirmary.  
  
"I was reading in the study when suddenly it felt as if my hand was on fire. The next thing I knew, I was running for your labs. The link was drawing me to you. I didn't know it worked for intense physical sensations."  
  
"Nor did I," he said, pondering the implications of that new development.  
  
After that incident, Severus wondered just what other wonders their link held for them. He had felt close to Hermione in the past, but the link seemed to strengthen their bond every day. He could feel the fear, pain, and revulsion that went along with her nightmares, he could feel her desperation as she raced against the clock to finish an exam, and he could feel her love for him when they lay in bed together in the evenings in each other's arms. He often wondered if she could feel the desire he felt for her; perhaps she could but didn't realize what it was.  
  
That desire grew every day. It had been almost three months since they were married. He had made a promise to himself that he would wait for her to come to him. He would not pressure her. He knew that when she did finally come to him, it would be well worth the wait. Until then, he would just have to satisfy himself and give her the time and space she needed.  
  
For the eve of their three month wedding anniversary, Severus had planned a romantic dinner for Hermione. At the last minute, though, Dumbledore had asked him to take care of some urgent business that could not wait. He knew he wouldn't be back until very late that evening. There was nothing he dreaded more than disappointing his wife.  
  
Hermione was looking forward to a relaxing evening with Severus. He had promised her a romantic dinner, something they didn't do often enough in her opinion. She also had something else planned, something she was sure he had been waiting for since the day they were married. When she arrived back at their chambers, he was gone. She closed her eyes, pushing back the tears. Had he forgotten? She slipped into the bedroom to change out of her school clothes. It was dark, but the scent of roses filled the air. As she lit the room with her wand, she was stunned to see their bed covered with red roses and white moonflowers; their wedding flowers. In the center lay a box of Honeyduke's chocolates surrounded by her favorite desserts; courtesy of the house elves she was sure. And there was a note promising to make it up to her. She pushed the flowers aside and lay on the bed, inhaling his scent. He had waited this long for her; surely she could wait one more day to put her plans into action. She lay back, imagining what it would be like, her only goal making him as happy as he made her.  
  
She reached over and rubbed the leaves of the enchanted pepper plant, as she was prone to do when she was nervous. It had become a sort of ritual, and it was always amusing to see what color blooms the plant produced. This evening, they were orange and red––courage and passion––and in the very center, a large, pale yellow blossom had sprouted. She ate that one first. Images of her scarred body flickered through her mind, followed quickly by a sense of calm and self-acceptance. She grasped at the feeling, struggling to incorporate it into her being. This was who she was, like it or not, and denying it or running from it would not change it. Severus accepted her; she knew she needed to the do the same. She let the feelings float through her as she imagined Severus loving her imperfect body. When she touched the plant again, white flowers sprang to life. She ate some of those as well, feelings of peace and tranquility spilling through her. The orange and red ones she would save for tomorrow when she needed them most. Tonight, she would take a look at all of those frighteningly skimpy wedding night gifts she had received and swore she'd never use.  
  
Severus returned to their quarters well after midnight. He was muddy, sweaty, and exhausted. Dumbledore's urgent business had been recruiting Severus to search the Forbidden Forest for some exotic plant species that was needed to save a student's life. He thought it ironic that he should be sent; after all, both Professor Sprout and Hermione would have been better suited to the task. But he also knew that Dumbledore did not relish sending anyone into the depths of the Forbidden Forest and Severus was the least likely to get himself killed. Nevertheless, Severus could think of numerous ways he would have rather spent his evening, not the least of which was sleeping gracefully at arm's reach. He showered quickly and slipped on the black cotton pants he slept in. Crawling into bed beside his wife, he swept her hair from her face, kissing her forehead before curling his body around hers. As exhausted as he was, he still noticed the thin satin material that clung to her body and the even smoother texture of her skin that meshed with his. This was certainly something new. She always slept in a long, cotton nightgown that left everything to the imagination. He wondered where she had gotten this piece of lingerie and instantly regretted it as his body started responding to the images forming in his mind. Groaning inwardly, he rolled away from her. She was fast asleep, which was what he needed to be as well.  
  
As the webs of sleep began to part, he vaguely recognized the feeling of her fingertips stroking his chest. This was not so unusual; he often awoke to her running her fingers along the planes of his chest. He found her exploration of his body amusing. What was different, he realized, was the warm wetness of her mouth on his nipple. He barely stifled a gasp at the sensation her mouth was sending through his body. He wasn't sure what she was doing; he only hoped she would continue doing it. Soon, he felt her gentle kisses traveling down his abdomen. She couldn't possibly be heading where he hoped she was. As her fingers led the way, he felt his desire spiraling out of control. He inhaled sharply at the feel of her fingers dancing across his clothed erection. He groaned at the feel of her deliberate strokes. Then, she moved her hands to his waistband and tugged gently. Obediently, he raised his hips as she slid his clothing away. He settled back on the bed, hoping against hope that this wasn't a dream.  
  
He hadn't even realized that his hand was stroking her satin covered back. Opening his eyes, he saw the sexy piece of red satin that barely covered her curves. He smirked, wondering whom he had to thank for her attire. His thoughts fled as she returned to caressing his now naked body. Her hands danced up his inner thighs, the fingers of one of her hands gently stroking his package while her other hand stroked his arousal. He watched her study him, touch him, examine him. He had never been treated so clinically and so reverently at the same time. He was about to ask her if she liked what she saw when her lips touched him; gently at first, trailing kisses up his length. And then, more passionately, as her mouth claimed him, slipping him inside. A moan of pure pleasure escaped from deep within him. His hand had worked its way up under the satin and was stroking her back. He was utterly lost in her, his hips rocking slowly against her. He stilled instantly, though, when he felt her stiffen. He held his breath, not sure of her state of mind. Tuning into their bond he could feel something he couldn't quite name, but knew in that instant her hesitance was due to her body and not his own.  
  
Lightly stroking her back, he became aware of the scars that slid under the pads of his fingers. "Hermione, I love you, and I love your body. It is beautiful, all of it. I would never wish what happened to you upon anyone, but if it had not, we would not be where we are today. We would not be making love, Mrs. Snape. And believe me, there's no place I'd rather be than here with you."  
  
He sighed as he felt her relax under his touch. He wanted her to feel the desire he felt, the desire she made him feel. He ran his fingers along her back, her sides, over her luscious bottom, and up her inner thighs, careful just to tease and not to touch. He wanted to ignite her desire; he didn't want to scare her. He had already decided that aside from his tongue, his manhood would be the only thing to penetrate her, and that would be of her own choosing.  
  
He knew he was working magic with his hands when her breathing changed and her own attentions to him increased in pace. Soon he was getting lost in her again, his body rocking against her, seeking its own pleasure as his fingers danced across her flesh. He could feel the sensation building within him. It would be so easy to just let go, but he'd rather reach completion buried deep inside of her. Her hand clasped around his base and worked effortlessly to glide him in and out of her mouth. When her other hand ventured back to caress his package, he almost lost it.  
  
"Hermione!" he gasped, trying to pull away from her. As much as he wanted release, the last thing he wanted was to surprise her. He wasn't entirely sure what Lucius had done to her, but he didn't think testing the waters by letting go while she was kissing him would be a good way to find out.  
  
She pulled back then and kissed his stomach. The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. He swallowed hard against the feel of her warm, wet folds encompassing him, her hands on his chest.  
  
"I could feel you," she whispered. "I could feel your desire, I could feel you getting close. It was like I was getting close."  
  
"And now?" he asked, breathless, straining not to move beneath her, to ride the tide he felt consuming him.  
  
"You're still close," she said, smiling.  
  
She closed her eyes and started to rock against him. He reached for her hips and then thought better of it, clenching his hands in the bed sheets instead. She slipped forward on him, his tip nudging her opening, causing a fresh wave of desire to course through him. But what he suddenly felt from her was anything but desire.  
  
Her eyes were closed, her fists suddenly clenched along with her teeth. Her body began to tremble. She was shaking her head.  
  
"Hermoine, look at me," he demanded.  
  
She didn't respond.  
  
"Hermione!" He sat up and grabbed her shoulders, sliding her back off of him. "Love, please, look at me. I won't hurt. I would never hurt you." His voice was soft, pleading.  
  
Finally she opened her eyes as if seeing him for the first time, as if realizing it was him and not Lucius.  
  
"Come here," he said, pulling her body against his and rocking her in his arms. She was still shaking slightly as she buried her head in the crook of his neck.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."  
  
"Shh.... You have nothing to apologize for."  
  
"I want this Severus, I really do. I want you to make love to me. I want to make new memories. I want to replace all those old memories. I want to think of you when I think of this. I want to get lost in you and forget anything bad ever happened to me. I want you to make me forget, Severus. I want you to give me something to remember."  
  
He held her tight for long moments before rolling her onto her back. When her eyes met his, he said, "I have an idea." He ran his fingers along her face before kissing her gently on the lips. "Let me make you feel what I feel for you. If anything I do makes you uncomfortable or if you want to stop, just tell me, or tap me on the shoulder, and I will stop. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."  
  
Seeing the skepticism in her eyes, he added, "Hermione, we have the rest of our lives together. There is no need to rush."  
  
Running his fingers gently down her arm, he continued. "I want you to focus on the pleasure you feel within your body, nothing else. I don't want you to think or to analyze. All you need to do is feel. Concentrate on the softness of my touch, the warmth of my kisses, the sensations they send through your body. If you get scared, concentrate on our link and the things you feel from me."  
  
With her nod of approval, he began kissing her again, murmuring endearments as his kisses trailed down her neck. His hand glided over the thin satin covering her skin. He longed to remove the garment and revel in her naked body, but he wouldn't. He would let her make that choice when she was ready. He only hoped that he could make her ready.  
  
His lips followed his hands, traveling down her chest, between her breasts, down her stomach, and coming to rest just above her pubic bone. He laid his cheek on her abdomen, trying to reel in his own desire. He could feel the beat of her heart. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. He smiled. She was more ready than she knew.  
  
Looking into her cautious eyes, he ran his hands over the spaghetti straps of her lingerie, letting his fingers linger on her upper arms.  
  
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Mrs. Snape?" Do you have any idea how much I want you right now? How long I've wanted you?  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"Who do I have to thank for this garment?"  
  
"Ginny," she said, in a shy voice. "Do you like it?"  
  
He quirked his eyebrows and growled. "Indeed." But I'd like it even more if it were lying on the floor right about now.  
  
Still holding her gaze, he gently ran his fingers along the outsides of her breasts and down her sides, gauging her reaction. When she responded favorably, he repeated his actions. Soon, he was circling her breasts through the satin. She had closed her eyes; her cheeks were flushed. He closed his eyes too, relishing the feel of her beneath his fingers. Her breasts were the perfect size. He slipped his fingers around her already hard nipples, caressing them until a soft moan escaped her lips. Soon his mouth was covering them, warming them.  
  
He slid his hand slightly under the edge of the satin which rested mid- thigh. "May I?" he inquired, his mouth still suckling her nipple.  
  
"Please," she responded.  
  
That simple plea sent fireworks of desire through his body. Slowly, he slipped his hand beneath the garment, feeling her quivering stomach as he worked his hand up to her breast. He whispered endearments to her as he touched her, knowing she needed his reassurance. Relief washed through him as her fingers wound their way into his hair, silently pleading for more. With the utmost of patience, he slipped the garment up until her breast was exposed, moving his lips to touch her flesh. He felt her fingers tangle painfully in his hair when he took her nipple into his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue. He slid his hand down her stomach, coming to rest in her nest of curls. He would not rush her. He gave her breasts equal attention with his mouth before trailing kisses down her stomach. He gently cupped the palm of his hand over her essence, absorbing its heat and wetness and letting her get used to the feel of him. Making sure she was still handling everything well, he slowly dragged his index and ring fingers along the crease where her inner things met the parts of her he wanted to kiss most, carefully to touch nothing of consequence. He repeated his motions until she raised her hips to meet his touch, desire clearly building within her. It was then that he knew she was ready.  
  
His hands caressed her inner thighs while he kissed her curls. He would demand nothing of her. She would give him access when she was ready. He hovered over her, allowing the warmth of his breath to make her beg for his touch. Strategically placing kisses, she soon spread her legs to give him full access. Gracefully, he slipped between them, planting chaste kisses along the length of her. God, she was beautiful. Her rosy bud was begging for attention and he had ever intention of giving her all that she wanted. He dipped his tongue into her folds, circling the area that most needed attention while carefully avoiding her entrance so as to not to trigger her. He needed to distract her first. Her body moved of its own accord, seeking out its pleasure. He allowed her to find it, as his lips encircled her bud, sucking it very gently. She gasped at his touch, raising her hips to meet him more fully. Her desire spiraled through him––the bond. He had planned on taking it slow, on bringing on her to climax in sure, sweet strokes. But her desire was stoking his own, and soon he was sucking on her intently as her body responded to his. It went deeper than that, though, he could feel her approaching climax deep down inside of him. The bond was giving him that, as if it was his own orgasm that was approaching.  
  
Suddenly, she was pushing him away and scrambling up the bed. Confusion swept through his desire-fogged brain before her voice brought him back to reality.  
  
"Please, Severus, make love to me. I want you. I need you. I want to reach this place together."  
  
He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, allowing her the control and security he knew she needed. It took all of his control to hold back and not thrust into her. She was warm and wet––and scared, he reminded himself. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and watch as she took him in her hand and clumsily guided him inside of her. She looked to him for approval. As their eyes met, he conveyed all the love and warmth he could, nodding slightly to let her know she was doing just fine. He maintained her gaze, watching her closely to make sure she was doing okay. When he was fully sheathed within her, she let out her breath, settling against him as she got used to the feel of him filling her.  
  
"You feel incredible, Hermione," he whispered, restraining his hands from grabbing her hips and creating the rhythm he so longed for. As if sensing what he needed, she started rocking back and forth, very slowly at first. He knew he wouldn't be able to last long; he had waited too long for this. He wanted her to come with him, though, and that would require a slight adjustment in positioning. Gently, he pulled her down towards him, kissing her gently as she rocked against him. He pushed her hips back until he could feel her rocking movements change to pleasure herself as well. Her sigh confirmed she had found the right place. Soon her rocking increased and her shyness evaporated. He was still holding on to his control when her words shattered any hope he might have of maintaining it.  
  
"Severus... I want... oh God... I need to feel your skin against mine... Please..." She was struggling to get free of the satin that stood in her way.  
  
In an instant, he had pulled the garment over her head and got the briefest glimpse of her incredible body before she collapsed against him, her breasts bouncing fervently against his own chest. Without conscious effort, his hands were on her hips, rocking them both towards climax. When her lips touched his, he felt her orgasm surge through him as if it were his own. In an instant, she was crying out his name as he gave in to his own release, rocking hard against her as her body milked the last of his seed from him.  
  
"Hermione," he said breathlessly, "Did you feel what I felt? Did you feel it through the bond?"  
  
"Yes," she rasped. "Yes, I felt you. I felt your orgasm at the same time I felt mine."  
  
Their eyes met in a sated, love-filled gaze.  
  
"That was incredible," they both whispered at the same time before bursting out laughing.  
  
Severus squeezed her against him as he rolled them both to their sides, limbs intertwined.  
  
"Thank you for making love to me, Severus," Hermione finally said, leaning in to kiss her husband.  
  
"It was my pleasure."  
  
On a whim, Hermione reached over and rubbed the leaves of the enchanted pepper plant. For the first time ever, no blooms came forth. Severus smiled; the woman he had grown to love was definitely on the road to recovery. 


	13. Epilogue

Resolution: Epilogue  
  
Severus leaned back in the chair in his study, watching his sleeping wife with a sense of awe. His life had changed dramatically over the last six years. If Sibyll Trelawney had told him what lay in his future six years ago, he would have been more convinced than ever that she was a raging lunatic. He smirked as he thought back over the last six years. Voldemort had been defeated and somehow he had managed to survive the war. Two months later, he had bid his former student, Hermione Granger, farewell after she had been supposedly murdered by Death Eaters. Six months after that, the witch had broken through the wards of his potions storeroom, alive but definitely not well. The following months would prove both harrowing and heart wrenching for them both as Hermione struggled with her inner demons and the torture she had suffered at the hands of Lucius Malfoy, after he'd faked her death and abducted her. Still, in the end, the beautiful witch had found solace and security in him, Severus Snape, of all people. And, even more amazing, she had agreed to marry him.  
  
Now, she lay on his couch, exhausted but happy, and as beautiful as ever. He longed to stroke her luxurious brown hair, kiss her soft lips, but he didn't dare wake her from the slumber she so desperately deserved. Instead, he admired her from afar. She had accomplished many things in the last six years: she had completed and published ground breaking research on a cure for the after effects of the Cruciatus curse, she had earned a double degree in Magical Plants and Potions from Worcester Witches' College, and she had accepted the position of Herbology professor at Hogwarts after Professor Sprout had unexpectedly fallen ill. Together, Mr. and Mrs. Snape had published numerous papers on their combined cutting-edge research. She was his intellectual equal, and her dedication and determination never ceased to amaze him.  
  
Yet the accomplishment that amazed him most was the wondrous bundle of joy that lay sleeping in his arms as he rocked back and forth in the rocking chair that Hermione had picked out before Severus Junior was born. He still remembered the morning she had discovered she was pregnant.  
  
He had awoken to the sound of her screaming. That, in itself, was not so unusual; she still had nightmares occasionally. They were intense enough for him to feel her emotions: fear and pain. Yet two things were out of place that morning. As he instinctively reached over to comfort her, she was not there. Stranger still was the odd feelings he was sensing through their link: anticipation and joy? He sat on the edge of the bed, the light from under the bathroom door the only indication that his wife was inside. He squinted at the bright light when the door finally opened. He was overwhelmed by his wife tackling him and found himself sprawled beneath her on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, a smile etched across her face. He couldn't imagine what had gotten into her. She kissed him fiercely for a brief moment before whispering in his ear, "How would you like to be a daddy?" The realization had sent shock waves through him for weeks: Severus Snape––a father. The two didn't seem to go together. He was both terrified and delighted over the prospect; terrified that he would never be good enough for their child, delighted that their love for one another had created a child––their child. And, best of all, he'd never seen his wife so happy. They had stopped using birth control after she graduated from college, letting whatever would happen, happen. Because of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the Malfoys, her ability to bear children was uncertain. Yet, his wife was pregnant and in less than a year, he was to find himself where he sat today, rocking his sleeping infant son in his arms, at least until he woke up and demanded to be fed again. Hermione stirred on the couch but did not awaken. He only hoped his son would give her a few more minutes of rest.  
  
As he stared into his son's face, the memory of his grand entrance into the world came rushing back to Severus. Hermione had been confined to bed for the last four weeks of her pregnancy due to premature labor. His son had been eager to come into this world, it seemed. Severus was teaching a seventh year Potions class when a sharp pain pierced his abdomen. Fortunately for him, his students were too busy brewing their potions to notice that their normally taciturn Potions Master was suddenly doubled over in pain, as well as fear and anticipation. He could feel Hermione's emotions as well: surprise and excitement. The baby was coming. He quickly Flooed Albus and had the headmaster take over his class so he could join Hermione in the Hospital Wing. With record speed, baby boy Snape was born. Severus had been thrilled for three reasons: his son was healthy and alive, his wife didn't have to suffer the long labor that most first time mothers did, and last, but not least, due to their link, he was unfortunate enough to have gone through the physical and emotional aspects of labor with her and was happy to feel them come to an end. They had all been exhausted after their journey. Studying his sleeping family now, there was no doubt in his mind that it had all been worth it.  
  
The cascade of events that followed was now comfortingly familiar to him. The baby opened its eyes, looked towards his father, and began to cry. His father was good for many things, but feeding was not one of them. At the sound of the baby's cries, Hermione awoke, reached for her son, cradled the hungry infant to her breast, smiled at Severus, and closed her eyes. It wouldn't be long before they were both sleeping again. It was only nine in the morning, but she had been up feeding the baby all night. She didn't seem to mind, though. He wondered when the boy would be able to go more than two hours without eating. He suddenly had a new respect for Molly Weasley. How on earth had she managed twins? Surely they'd never wake up and eat at the same time. The poor woman mustn't have gotten any sleep at all.  
  
As he made his wife lunch, an owl arrived with a package. It was addressed to Mrs. Hermione Snape. He walked back into the study with lunch and the parcel. He took his sleeping son and let her enjoy her well-deserved meal. He watched with amusement as she devoured everything he placed in front of her. He had thought pregnancy made her ravenous; breastfeeding seemed to do no less.  
  
Next she turned her attention to the plain brown package. He had been amazed at the outpouring of well wishes and gifts they'd received when word spread that Hermione was expecting. At least once a week, another gift would arrive. He watched as Hermione eagerly read the enclosed letter, a fleeting look of surprise crossing her face. She looked at Severus with an amused expression on her face.  
  
At the sight of his eyebrows raised in question, she said, "It's from Draco and his fiancée; his Muggle fiancée."  
  
Setting down the parchment, she continued. "It seems he has decided to leave the Magical world, at least for now. He says that he and Andrea are planning to wed in a small Muggle ceremony this spring and that he plans to take her last name. He says that the Malfoys have done enough damage over the last century and it is up to him to make sure it stops with him."  
  
Hermione looked at Severus, a sad smile on her face.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, knowing his wife was much too sensitive for her own good.  
  
"You know he's giving it all up because of me."  
  
"Giving what up?"  
  
"The name, the money, the prestige, the Wizarding ways, everything."  
  
"Hermione, he gave that up a long time ago."  
  
"Yes, and for me."  
  
"You gave him his life, Hermione. And after what he did to you, whatever the circumstances, I hardly consider his sacrifice as anything more than the right thing to do."  
  
"He can't change what happened any more than I can. I've already forgiven him."  
  
"Yes, but he hasn't forgiven himself. I doubt he ever will."  
  
She sighed. "Perhaps someday we will be teaching their children. They might even be the first Malfoy heirs not to be sorted into Slytherin."  
  
Hermione laughed at the slighted look on Severus's face. She got up to kiss him before handing him the larger of the two packages. "You first," she said, watching as he clumsily unwrapped the rectangular box due to the baby nestled in the crook of one of his arms. He pulled out a miniature black robe trimmed in gold.  
  
"Read the note," she requested.  
  
Severus cleared his throat. "After telling Andrea all about Hogwarts and the different Houses, she thought it only fitting to fashion a robe for your child. In the spirit of both Slytherin and Gryffindor, we settled on black and gold. I vetoed red and green; fortunately, the child wasn't born at Christmas time or I think she would have won that battle."  
  
Hermione eagerly unwrapped the second gift, which looked surprisingly like a Remembrall. She read the attached note aloud. "Instead of reminding you that you've forgotten something, this special Remembrall will show you things you want to remember. Have the baby hold it periodically and the moment will be magically captured. You will be able to look back at any time and see him or her at various ages." Scribbled below in Draco's scrawl was another note."It took me some time to get the charms worked out, as Charms was never my best subject, but I think I've managed. If it doesn't work right, let me know, and I'll make some adjustments to it."  
  
Hermione set down the gifts and the letter and looked thoughtfully at her husband. "He's marrying a Muggle. Who would have ever guessed?"  
  
Severus snorted. "Who would have ever guessed you'd marry me, your evil Potions professor?"  
  
"Who would have thought my evil Potions Master was really a caring, kind, and considerate man hiding behind a façade of indifference?" she countered.  
  
Severus placed the baby in the bassinet and slid behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. "And who would have thought that the insufferable, know-it-all Gryffindor would become my intellectual equal as well as my most beloved companion?" he said, pulling her hair back and placing soft kisses along her neck.  
  
"Who would have ever thought," she whispered, lost in his touch, feeling his intense love for her through their link. "Who would have ever thought, indeed." 


End file.
